


his tears of contraband

by sophiealicemay



Category: Kingdom Hearts
Genre: Alternate Universe, Alternate Universe - High School, Alternate Universe - Modern Setting, Anxiety, Blood and Injury, Child Abuse, Eraqus aint a saint either but he tries his best, Fluff, Growing Up Together, Hurt/Comfort, Implied/Referenced Drug Use, M/M, Mutual Pining, Non-Linear Narrative, Panic Attacks, Warning: Xehanort (Kingdom Hearts), Xehanort is a fucking bitch
Language: English
Status: In-Progress
Published: 2019-12-24
Updated: 2020-02-29
Packaged: 2021-02-26 03:49:14
Rating: Mature
Warnings: Graphic Depictions Of Violence
Chapters: 7
Words: 49,137
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/21747046
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/sophiealicemay/pseuds/sophiealicemay
Summary: Vanitas and Ventus met each other in their first year of school, where Ventus  walked all over Vanitas' perfectly laid lego trap of death and destruction and cried in the corner for ten minutes. Somehow from that they became best friends, and even as they grew up and their personalities clashed like darkness to light- it remained that way for years.Yet growing up under stressful conditions doesn't always yield the greatest results. Especially when you're Vanitas, because everything just hates him apparently and the world is constantly out to get him. All he wants to do is protect his best friend, and sometimes he can't even do that.Or alternatively: Vanitas and Ventus grow up together and go through some shit.
Relationships: Vanitas/Ventus (Kingdom Hearts)
Comments: 22
Kudos: 53





	1. or something

**Author's Note:**

  * Inspired by [You're not the boy you used to be.](https://archiveofourown.org/works/17938529) by [magicites](https://archiveofourown.org/users/magicites/pseuds/magicites). 

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> The beginning.
> 
> \-- The present day, and the result of a seven year tragedy.
> 
> \-- The past, on the day they first met.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> i think i've written the first chapter of this maybe ten times. 
> 
> \-- this is heavily inspired by 'you're not the boy you used to be' by magicites. i find her work to be truly phenomenal and recommend it very highly if you like this or think it may be interesting. --
> 
> fair warning ahead though, i'm a fan of whump and such- so i highly reccomend you read over the tags before reading.
> 
> thank you for your interest :)

_**CHAPTER ONE** _

or something

_present_

Ventus had a penchant for mumbling to himself out loud while trying to solve maths problems. Key word there of all things being _trying_.

It wasn’t just the normal, bog-standard, _irritating_ breed of mumbling either. It was breathy and monotonous yet peaked in a horrifically cute way whenever he tapped his pencil against the desk. Thankfully it was almost inaudible. Almost.

It didn’t annoy Vanitas, despite popular peer theory. Any other mumbler would have had a sharp volley of insults directed at the back of their heads, but for Ventus he would just sit idly through it.

He didn’t think Ventus had the ability to actually annoy him. Whether that was on Vanitas or Ventus’ head, had yet to be decided.

Vanitas didn’t have the brain power to be concerned. Instead, he teased Ventus about it relentlessly. He felt like, if he _didn’t_ act annoyed, and _didn’t_ tease Ventus about it he’d lose some vital part of his outwardly vexatious personality, or, sense of self.

Ventus had been mumbling softly for the last thirty minutes. The boy was lucky the pair of them had been abandoned to the furthest reaches of the classroom, as far away from the teacher and the smart kids as physically possible, because Vanitas was pretty sure he’d be able to build a formidable tower from all the geometry equipment that’dve been thrown at them.

“…and then I… no ‘cause then 2x won’t be able to be divisible by the three there. But what if… no then I wouldn’t be able to move y…”

He was really struggling again, and from what Vanitas had picked up here and there the class was on simultaneous equations. It wasn’t long after the nail biting began that Ventus finally gave in and tilted back in his chair. He groaned loudly, rubbing his hands over his face as if he could rub the maths out of it.

“Don’t work your little brain _too_ hard. You might give yourself an aneurism,” Vanitas said snidely, flicking the back of his hand on his closed textbook as if he was somehow making a statement by not doing any work.

Ventus leaned forward precariously and his head hit the desk hard like he was trying to induce said aneurism. He lolled his head to the side with a questioning glance. “What’s that?”

“It’s like a blood clot in the brain,” Vanitas smirked. “Leave it festering there too long and your brain explodes inside your head and leaks out your eyes and your ears and nose and-”

“ _Ewww!_ Ew no, gross!” Ventus retched, his hands flew to his ears and plugged them tight with his fingers. He then experimentally wiggled them about like his own earwax was stray brain matter and shivered.

“Vanitas no, why would you even-- _ugghh.”_

Vanitas grinned wickedly and reclined back on his chair. “Because it’s fun.”

His joy quickly became wild, derisive laughter as Ventus began grumpily banging his head on the table. The boy had mentioned a few times that apparently Vanitas’ laugh sounded like a murder of crows. He tried to take pride in that.

Wearily, Ventus raised his head and started doodling patterns on the back of his workbook. Vanitas watched, tapping his dangling foot against the desk in an indiscernible rhythm. He frowned.

Ventus, god’s eternal child was smiling gently at his little stick figures as they danged ring-around-the-rosie together beside a bonfire, surrounded by badly drawn musical notes. He wasn’t mumbling anymore, but humming; a tune Vanitas didn’t know.

A drop of water hit the back of Vanitas’ neck. He grimaced and looked up at the ceiling miserably.

Normally, his and Ventus’ little corner of shame that they always ended up in was a reprieve from the constant fuck-off expectations teachers had of them. Their first year of secondary school took that beloved concept and promptly shit all over it in the form of leaky, faulty roof panelling that looked like it would cave in any second. At this point he was just waiting to die.

To add insult to injury it was in their maths classroom too. Surely this was some kind of ominous message. He hadn't even _wanted_ to sit with Ventus this year.

He didn’t think he’d ever fully understood the ridiculous machinations of the small blond’s mind, even after years on years of friendship.

Ventus was an astonishingly accurate personification of the term, ‘a bright ball of sunshine.’ His optimism was nigh on perpetual and he was almost never seen without a big smile on his face. Ventus’ frowny face looked all kinds of wrong and Vanitas hated that he knew what it looked like.

This would be why in maths; where all sunlight was replaced with hopelessness and gloom, and Vanitas didn’t feel like he was going blind from his smile, Ventus could be safely ignored.

Vanitas’ stomach grumbled, and he turned to look out the window in a bid to ignore it. Lazily flipping a pencil between two fingers, he observed a few PE student throwing a ball around, laughing amongst themselves. His stomach grumbled again, and he slammed the pencil down, grunting in annoyance.

He rooted around in his rumpled school bag for his last stick of gum and languidly tossed it in his mouth. Vanitas winced at the sudden burst of mint, having no fondness of the flavour and being more partial to sweeter things- but they didn’t sell chocolate flavoured gum.

Even though it’d only been an hour or so since lunch time, he was uncomfortably hungry. Though that might have been because he’d conveniently forgotten to eat lunch again.

“Can I have some?” Ventus asked innocently from beside him, in a position with his small hands against his cheeks that Vanitas would have called cute if he wasn’t trying to stay mad at Ventus. He fluttered his eyes and Vanitas felt his resolve slipping.

“No,” he quipped and gave Ventus a bit of a glare- to which the boy’s lower lip just wobbled into a pout and Vanitas had to look away.

It wasn’t that Vanitas hated Ventus, far from it, in fact far _far_ from it. But, ever since ‘ _that day’_ the previous year their relationship had some sort of stiff tension on it that neither really understood how to diffuse without inadvertently setting off an emotionally-charged array of proximity mines.

And Vanitas was an expert at acting cold and mean; it was a part of his personality.

* * *

In essence, that was usually how maths lessons ended up for the pair. Ventus desperately claimed _he’d_ _get it this time_ then when he didn’t get it got frustrated and gave up, and Vanitas not even bothering to open his textbook.

The pair would often just float off into their own little world. Conversations littered with chaste teasing and mocking and would never amount to any work ever being done. And because Ventus found it hard to focus and sit still and Vanitas found it hard to care about paying attention.

Vanitas was more comfortable in his skin of incompetence then Ventus was, still in the past they both cruised through lessons and immediately forgot the content straight after with little to no consequence.

And then they got older, and bigger and moved up to secondary school, encountering a difficulty spike that breached the hazy cloud barrier. Their unremarkable zero’s in tests sanctioned them detention that ate away at their after school time.

The worst part of all was that they had to share it with their old, crotchety, reanimated corpse-y maths teacher who ignored their existences 100% of the time in lessons, only coming out of the woodwork to reprimand them in her nasally, croaky, old woman voice.

Ventus had been _mortified_. He quaked in his shiny leather shoes and hung on to her every word with a magnanimous amount of zeal. His anxiety was through the roof and he nibbled away at his nails at the speed of a cartoon beaver to a piece of cartoon wood.

Vanitas’ crooked stance betrayed how little he cared of her rants, and it greatly amused him how she would get increasingly redder in the face whenever he rolled his eyes or scoffed and looked out the window with every new breath she took.

Eventually, the old windbag exhausted herself and deflated from lack of air; she crossly told the pair to put all the chairs up on the desks so the cleaners could hoover the floor before stomping out on her fat little legs.

Vanitas laughed aloud and grabbed his bag to leave; defiance of authority also a staple in his crooked personality, but when he saw Ventus struggling to do them all by himself he begrudgingly helped so the job would be done faster.

“I can’t believe I got detention,” Ventus mumbled in repine, almost taking his own eye out with a chair leg as he shakily set it down. “Mr. Eraqus is going to be so mad at me.”

“If he’s going to be mad at anything, it’d be that you still call him _Mr._ Eraqus,” Vanitas sighed, wrestling the chair from the other’s iron grip. “Give it- _give it here_ moron, look tell him it’s my fault- he can be mad at me if you want, I’m the one who encourages you to not do your homework.”

“He could never be mad at you though. You’re his best friend’s only son- you’re practically royalty in our house.”

Vanitas just snorts, lip curled as he shepherds Ventus away from the desk. Vanitas really, _really_ didn't like Eraqus _._ “It’s not royalty if the other half of said house treats me like I'm fucking gum on the bottom of their shoe. Or in their hair. Besides I don’t _want_ to come round to your house.”

Ventus opened his mouth to retort, before thinking about it a little and biting his lip, eyes unsure. Vanitas’ vaunting look made him shrink back and avert his eyes.

Their task was ultimately small, so once they had finished they sauntered out the school gates without checking out first and started on the winding path back home. Ventus hadn’t even needed to beg him to walk back together this time, he was just too tired and frustrated to argue.

Ventus lived in a nice district with detached housing, front _and_ back gardens- and even driveway for cars. Typically it had a lot more countryside than any other area in the city, being in the deepest reaches of the outskirts; the multicoloured trees of reds and yellows were a decadent picture for Vanitas’ eyes as they walked through it. He always silently lamented that he couldn’t live in such a pretty place, but his family didn’t have the money.

They hadn’t talked about much on their journey back, any attempted small talk or teasing was awkwardly dropped into the murky sewers beneath their feet. As they approached Ventus’ road, the boy began to wriggle uneasily from right to left foot like he had pins and needles before stopping entirely.

Vanitas turned around to look back at him, eyebrows raised because he looked so uncomfortable.

“Uhmm. Do you uh,” Ventus calloused hands flew up to his mouth again and he chewed his nails. “I know you said no earlier, but, er… do-do you wanna come back to my house? We can order pizza for tea or something and maybe finish that show we were watching last time.”

Vanitas blinked, and he narrowed his eyes unhappily. Truthfully, he didn’t remember what it was they’d been watching the last time he had gone over, but that wasn’t the main issue.

“No. I’m busy.” He barely didn’t stammer over his own words, but Ventus didn't notice.

Ventus closed his eyes and breathed like he was in pain, eyes twitching as he ravaged his own lip with his teeth. He could see through Vanitas’ transparent lie like glass; Vanitas was never busy. “Are-are you? It’s just, y’know, you haven’t been over in a really long time and I-”

“No means no. Get lost back home idiot,” Vanitas snapped and turned around, briskly walking down the street and away from the blond dithering helplessly on the pavement behind him.

Vanitas tugged on his backpack straps and brushed the hood of his black jacket over his blacker spikes, head up with an imitated conviction and stormy look on his face.

Yeah. He and Ventus had been best friends, once.

* * *

_past_

Vanitas sat nervously in the back of Xehanort’s old and rusty white Renault, wiggling his toes inside his new school shoes in anticipation. At four years of age, he wasn’t completely aware of what he was doing or where he was going, but it certainly wasn’t pre-school.

He had only just grown accustomed to the large, prismatic stained glass-filled church where his pre-school had been held, it having been much different from him and his father’s four room bungalow back home.

When Vanitas had asked why they weren’t going back to the nursery, Xehanort had just given a hand-wavey explanation about him being too old for it now, which Vanitas couldn’t pretend to understand.

Butterflies were gathering in the pits of his stomach, but that also might have been the hunger. Every day, Vanitas made his own breakfast- usually unbranded cornflakes with hopefully still-in-date milk. But he hadn’t eaten yet that day; looking forward to filling up on the jam sandwiches they used to make for lunch in preschool. It seemed he would no longer have the chance to, and in response his stomach gurgled hungrily.

In the front seat, Xehanort, a man who was wise with age was mumbling gruffly about petrol costs (Vanitas hated the smell of petrol and always curled up in a ball and covered his nose when they stopped in petrol stations) as he turned the wheel into what seemed to be a very small carpark.

The bald man swung open the door and looked down on young Vanitas being stifled by the seatbelt in the back. He leaned over the child and unbuckled the unruly belt and motioned for his son to get out.

“Alright get out. We’re here,” he said and began fumbling around in his workbag for something as Vanitas hopped from the raised car onto the ground, eyes immediately captured by the big two-story building that loomed over him. He couldn’t read, so the weird symbols that adorned the signs around the doors meant little to him.

Xehanort produced a wad of papers from his bag and thrust them into Vanitas’ hands, then fished out a cigarette from his jacket and struggled to light it with one hand. He tossed the lighter at Vanitas, who dutifully lit it for his father. “Right. This is your new preschool. It’s called primary school- and its where you’ll be for the next seven years so get used to it.”

Vanitas didn’t really understand but nodded enthusiastically anyway. Xehanort just grunted and breathed out smoke and Vanitas had to fight the urge not to cough. “Go in through those big doors there and give the first grown-up you see those papers. They’ll sort you out.” He slammed the rear car door shut loudly, causing Vanitas to jump, and fell back into the driver’s seat- starting up the engine.

Grumbling even louder about school now being even further away from work, he drove away leaving Vanitas to gaze up at the new building in wonder as he pottered towards it, careful not to trip up on his shoes that were almost three sizes too big.

Backing into the big and scary black doors, the child found himself at an impasse- two long, winding corridors leading the devil knows where unfolded before him, looking identical. There were no grownups around to tell him what to do like his father had said, and the worry began to build up as a blockage in his throat, and a tickling pressure behind his eyes. He wouldn’t cry though; his father didn’t like it when he cried; he said it made him look foolish and weak. Vanitas recognised his tone sufficiently enough when his father said those words to know they were bad.

So he made his way down the hallway to his right, heading straight down and ignoring every branching door until he walked straight into someone. It was a tall woman, who was initially surprised but lead him around the back to where he was supposed to be anyway. She didn’t look very happy, in fact she looked rather cross as she spoke to another more flowery woman who had been introduced as his reception teacher. The second woman had taken his papers and told him to go and play in the play-area for a bit because he was there a little early.

He had plonked himself down right in the centre of the room and began eyeing up the mountains of toys and castles and farms and mini figures he wanted to play with. They weren’t the same as the ones in the preschool which annoyed Vanitas a little, but he’d still have fun regardless.

It was when he’d picked up a disfigured knight looking man when he’d heard the snivelling coming from the corner. Looking up perplexedly, he noticed another small boy huddled in a ball under a children’s awning, shaking like he was stranded in the arctic with no clothes on.

Curiously, Vanitas crawled over to the boy, whose head was pressed firmly into his knees as he wept into them. He suddenly felt awkward. He didn’t know what to say, and just kneeled in front of him, uncertain. Eventually he shook the boy’s legs, who looked up at him and flinched back.

Vanitas had never seen eyes so blue before, and even though they were clouded with tears they still reminded him of the ocean that he saw once in a picture.

Vanitas’ own eyes were a very unusual molten gold colour, and it made the familial relationship with him and his father abundantly clear as his father possessed almost the exact same colour- and nothing else physically in common. Curious gold bored into fearful blue, that quivered and darted around as they took in Vanitas’ face.

When nothing further happened, Vanitas leaned back and said, “y’know you shouldn’t cry. My father says if you cry, you’ll go all wrinkly and turn into a gross prune.”

The young boy gasped and wiped his eyes with very soft movements. Vanitas then noticed his hands were bleeding a little, and grabbed them abruptly, causing the boy to squeak and pull them back.

“You’re hurting!” Vanitas commented with surprise and jolted to his feet. If he recalled correctly, his father had called the red stuff blood, and if he ever saw it, he should tell him right away. Xehanort wasn’t here right now, but Vanitas was at least smart enough to dash back into the other room to get an adult; even his method of doing so was by running around crazed, screeching wildly that the little blond boy in the other room was going to _die_.

The boy, who Vanitas learned was named Ventus was in fact _not_ going to die, nor shrivel up like a prune, and had apparently just bitten his nails so much that they’d started to bleed. Vanitas looked down at his very long fingernails and nibbled at them but didn’t understand the appeal.

It took three days of various calamitous exploits, such as Ventus being drowned in the sandpit and this hyperactive kid called Sora spontaneously undressing and running around starkers, before the teacher finally came around to giving the unruly class of thirteen educational lessons.

Vanitas found himself next to Ventus again, and he tried to pay attention as the teacher was explaining these symbols called numbers. Ventus seemed to zone out immediately, blue eyes scanning the room around him wide with wonder. He fiddled with this large, gross-orange lanyard around his neck that none of the other kids seemed to have.

Ignoring the weird, spacy, cry-baby boy in favour of listening to the flowery teacher, he discovered that he and Ventus were the only ones who didn’t know what numbers were. Somehow, the teacher was unimpressed, but unsurprised.

The pair were let go earlier than the others, primarily due to the teacher’s frustration and were sent to go and play in the soiled play area. Ventus had avoided the sandpit like the plague but ended up bawling anyway as he fell victim to Vanitas’ very evil path of lego on the floor.

The teaching assistant came marching over to them and looked on in despondency as Ventus howled in tears while clutching his feet and Vanitas held his sides with the pain of laughter as he rolled around the floor.

She sternly told them to play nice or they would have to sit in time out, but Vanitas just grinned like an imp and began assembling the knights of the ‘King Arthur’ castle to launch a deadly assault on Ventus. He turned around to attack but lowered his toys as he saw that Ventus had fastidiously collected all of the lego that had been used against him and was building a castle.

Thoughts of his raid forgotten, he sidled up to the boy, who flinched violently at seeing him. Vanitas made a face and grabbed some red bricks, beginning to construct a spire above the front gate.

Ventus gazed at him in bewilderment. “What-what are you doing?” He warbled; voice hoarse from screaming.

“I'm helping you with your castle, silly,” Vanitas remarked warmly and flicked a brick softly at Ventus; it landing in his lap and he eyed it precariously like it was a bomb about to explode. He even picked it up and examined it before placing it at the tip of his structure.

“It’s not a castle, it’s a _princess palace._ Look, that’s Belle there,” he pointed to the yellow dressed princess doll that was inside the castle, or rather _palace_ walls.

Vanitas scrutinised her, and turned away to grab his knights from before and leaned them against the outer walls in a circle all the way around. “A princess needs to be protected then. The soldiers will save the day!”

Ventus looked up, “What does pruh-pruhtect…pretected mean?”

Vanitas blinked and stared down at the armoured soldier in his hands. “I dunno. They’re just going to make sure she doesn’t get hurt.”

“Ohhhh.” Ventus affirmed and sniffed, wiping his nose with a very wet sleeve. “But, Belle has the Beast who can take care of her. He saves her from the scary wolves in the movie.”

Vanitas, irked a little by the boy’s denial, picked up a troll and a witch doll from beside him and brandished them like knives. “But the Beast isn’t here right now. The evil witch and her troll stole Belle away from the Beast and locked her in the princess palace. He has to come and get her.”

Blue eyes rounded with delight. “ _Oooh._ And-and,” he picked up a fairy-godmother from Cinderella. “The good fairy godmoth-god-mothe…the good mummy fairy is going to use her magic spells to give the Beast a big horse so he can ride on it into the castle and save her!”

Excitedly, the two advanced and intertwined the plots of about five different Disney movies together before the assistant came over and cajoled them away from their masterpiece, shocked that the two had managed to work on something together since Vanitas had been practically bullying Ventus since day one. She ushered them back to the classroom where they sat together and learned how to read letters instead, which was incredibly easier than stupid numbers.

That was the day in which Vanitas and Ventus became inseparable best friends. Almost.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> man, writing four year olds is a lot more difficult than i anticipated.
> 
> thank you for taking the time to read this, it means a lot to me that you gave it a go :)


	2. of first meetings and fears

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> the second part: which takes place entirely within their primary school years, yet neither actually in school itself.
> 
> \-- Vanitas ends up going to a community church after the sermon to scavenge the free tea and biscuits- ooh naughty
> 
> \-- Vanitas and Ventus end up going on a fun school trip, which isn't as fun as anticipated

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Hi diddly ho and thanks for coming back. The suffering I mentioned is in this chapter; what fun. There's also a fluffy bit that made my friend smile so hey that's something. Furthermore theres a widdle bit of church nonsense and christian stuffs in it too- but its nothing big just two 6-7 year olds being adorable little babies
> 
> Enjoy your chapter~

**_CHAPTER TWO_ **

of first meetings and fears

_past_

The city’s lavish community centre advertised an array of wholesome activities for the whole family to enjoy; ranging from arts-and-crafts-with-lots-of-laughs- featuring a year’s supply of furry pipe-cleaners, to simple tea and biscuits and a nice little chat.

It should be expressively noted that this specific community centre was in no way related to the church community centre across the street from it and the fact that the number of volunteers that helped out at both was over 85% was purely coincidental. Oddly enough, the other 15% so vehemently opposed community spirit and only volunteered for the sake of their DofE award or to put it on their CV and couldn’t stand the Christian hymns.

These two centres were situated just behind the city arboretum, and thus a popular haunt for mid-life crisis victims and the elderly to stop at after their evening stroll through the overgrown wildlife.

Vanitas couldn’t really remember when he had started going to the non-Christian community centre- but the Monday, Thursday and Sunday afternoon ventures into the rickety building were a staple in his life; and also an abundant source of free biscuits as Xehanort took forever to drink his tea.

It wasn’t until half way through his third year of primary school (which was called year two even though it was his third year which greatly confused him) that his father didn’t stop in front of their regular building one Sunday and kept walking past like he’d never seen it before in his life.

Vanitas was hesitant to voice his concerns and just dawdled next to the hunched man as they stopped at a damaged zebra-crossing to cross the road. Vanitas looked up from his feet and noticed his old-preschool was across said road- the one in a church with the stained glass windows.

Suddenly, Vanitas’ lingering question became way too big for his boots, “Father? Why are we going to my old pre-school instead of the place we always go?”

Xehanort just mumbled gruffly, more to himself than his son, “Going here on Sundays instead now. I don’t care for the religious foolishness of it anymore, but apparently post-sermon breaks are undoubtedly much better than in the usual place.”

Vanitas, as usual, didn’t understand half the words that were being rasped back at him, but managed to garner that this is where they would go on Sundays instead of the other centre.

They walked through the back entrance and made their way into a much larger room that Vanitas was used to seeing littered with children and children’s toys. Now it had transformed; showcasing tables with silky white cloth over them and numerous trinkets for afternoon tea spread about them like ornaments still-performing a statuesque nativity story.

Xehanort’s attention was captured by another man who was nodding rather overtly from across the room and motioned for his son to come hither as he ambled across to an empty seat next to the man. Vanitas stood beside his seated family and analysed the man who had launched into a full-on conversation with his father, realising he’d definitely seen him before. It was the facial scars that gave it away.

“Xehanort.” The man whose name Vanitas could not remember for the life of him intoned in the same muted but still audible way his father spoke, and gave his father a firm half handshake that was more a hand grab than anything, “You have graced us with your presence I see! I’m delighted you came today; it has been little more than a prolonged fortnight since we last crossed paths.”

To Vanitas’ surprise, his father smiled as he reached for the tea, “I’ve been occupying my Sundays among enemy lines as of late, Eraqus. I find the ambience of the wooden hall across the road to be most relaxing without the incessant wittering of women and children after church. But you are correct, it has been too long.”

Somewhere beside them, a man groaned in exasperation and face-planted onto the table. He was ignored.

Eraqus did not seem fazed by Xehanort’s bluntness, “It’s favourable that you’re returning to our former frequent though. Personally, I’ve lamented your undue absence.”

Xehanort’s face pulled up in an expression Vanitas had never seen before, he could have sworn it were amusement, but it also had an embarrassed inflection to it, “Surely you are not so forthright as to claim me a compassionate soul, Eraqus?”

Eraqus looked entertained with the other man’s response, “It must be so, I fear. For I have known you too long to truly negate my prior conceptions with more current acknowledgements of your countenance.”

“You two are awful, you know that?” The much younger man from beside them objected with an amused grimace, “I’ve known the pair of you for almost twenty years and you do this _every time._ It’s like I walked right into a flipping Jane Austen novel. _”_

The pair gave the man eerily similar smiles. Vanitas, even with his young brain and poor memory, still remembered Eraqus; his father’s best friend and what appeared to many as a double-act comedy duo that existed to piss-off everyone around them. Eraqus would often frequent their house for more tea, and Vanitas had even been to the other man’s abode once- but it was in a much nicer area.

Eraqus was the first to break character and gestured at the younger man, “Ah, Xehanort I've been wanting to introduce the two of you for quite some time. This fellow here is responsible for most of the community work you’ve missed this month- as well as working part time in elderly care homes and…” Vanitas tuned out and wandered off like he usually did when words got too confusing for him- or boring. Old men and their fancy words.

Across the room was a gathering of children, all different ages playing with a mostly-deflated bouncy castle that had been put there to occupy children’s overactive minds. Thank God he’d looked over there or he would’ve missed it. His eyes lit up and he bounded over to the inflatable as he noticed someone there.

Launching himself through the centre hole, the raven landed right next to the boy who flailed wildly with the rebound of the bounce, “Ventus!”

Taking a moment to find himself after receiving the shock of the century, Ventus’ eyes widened and his face broke out into another of his illuminous smiles, “Van- _Vanitas!_ You’re…you’re here! Since when did you come church on Sundays?”

The newly-appointed church goer shrugged, “Since today apparently. Father just took me here to meet with his weird friend Eraqus. I forgot, you’re never able to hang out on Sunday mornings because of church.”

“Yeah. It’s for the whole day. Mornings are a little bit boring sometimes, but the afternoons are usually fun,” He wobbled to his knees before tackling Vanitas in a tight hug, leaving him on top of his best friend, “Better now you’re with me though.”

Vanitas didn’t understand the light and happy feeling in his chest at those words and returned the hug with a smile of his own, words unnecessary as they just rolled around the bouncy floor together, mock fighting with exceptionally weak blows and soft judo flips.

Vanitas found that time spent with Ventus seemed to fly by, faster than any other time he spent alone or with his father. It was cruel really; the best times that he enjoyed the most felt like they ended almost instantaneously, but the times he wished to be over would drag on forever.

Finally, exhausted from the bouncing being more exercise than anticipated- the two flopped down on the solid ground, inundated with tiredness as the castle was deflated by a community member.

Ventus was beneath Vanitas, who had his head on his friend’s stomach as they gazed at the picturesque biblical designs that adorned the church ceiling. Vanitas wondered why he’d never noticed them in all the time he’d been there during pre-school.

Ventus was pointed to a serene looking woman that was directly above them, “That’s Mary. She’s Jesus’ mummy and a very special lady.”

Vanitas didn’t know anything about any religion at all, but was perfectly content to listen to his friend talk about it, “Jesus…is the baby in that one,” He pointed to a more traditional baptismal scene, “And a grown-up in that one. How can he be a baby and a grown up?”

“Because he’s magic,” The blond giggled almost wistfully, and the vibrations reverberated along Vanitas’ own figure and made him shiver a little. It wasn’t a bad feeling.

Suddenly, Xehanort’s smiling face popped into the frame and Vanitas had the fright of his life. Eraqus wandered over and squatted down next the pile.

“Vanitas, it’s good to see you here too, of course,” He inclined his head to look at Ventus’ beaming form beneath him, “And who’s this? A friend of yours?”

Ventus froze up slightly, probably nervous with the sudden appearance of the elderly-ish men that were crowding around him, but Vanitas gave his hand a little squeeze in comfort.

“Uhm,” He near-whispered and wiggled a little, so he was upright and Vanitas’ head fell into his lap, “M-my name is Ventus sir, I’m Vanitas’ friend from school. It’s…um, nice to meet you.”

Eraqus’ eyebrows flew to his hairline, “And so polite too! It’s a pleasure Ventus.”

Ventus, who was trying to overcome his crippling anxiety, bit the bullet and gave the man a glowing smile, “Thank you… And it’s good to see you again too Mr. Xehanort.”

Vanitas’ father gave a slight nod and turned to his son, face cynical, “Come on boy, get up. You’ll crush him to death with your oversized head.”

Vanitas huffed indignantly, but his response dissolved on his tongue before he could say it, and Ventus leaned forward so he could cradle it a little.

“No no, it’s not a problem at all. It’s a little funny seeing his head upside down like this actually,” The blond giggled again, and his cool fingertips grazed Vanitas’ face and pulled on his chin slightly, trying to make his mouth move.

Vanitas shook his hands off and jerked upright, giving his friend an incredulous glance, “Oi lay off,” He quipped and waved a hand at him facetiously. His face still tingled where Ventus’ smooth fingers had been.

Xehanort dragged his son to his feet as Eraqus held a hand out that Ventus eagerly took as he bounded up off of the floor.

“So Ventus, did you go the sermon this mor-” Eraqus trailed off as he noticed the garish orange lanyard that Ventus always had hanging from his neck and his gaze softened considerably, “Ah… you’re one of Ansem’s kids. Did you enjoy the sermon this morning?”

Ventus blinked, and flushed a little pink with embarrassment, and Vanitas felt a little angry at the way his friend’s eyes hollowed with what usually amounted to fear of rejection. Ventus’ anxiousness came back and hit him full force and he began to nibble at his nails, “Um, I- I liked it very much so, sir.”

Eraqus must’ve realised how he came across and the guilt was very apparent on his face, “That…is most excellent that you did so. You must misunderstand me, Ansem and I are good friends, and I always support him in his…endeavours as it were. You know what I mean.”

Ventus (and Vanitas who hadn’t realised he’d tensed) relaxed, and before long the sunshine was back in full force; comparable to the glistening rays that scorched the countries along the equator. Certainly, Vanitas felt warm just being near him and his joy.

The four began to migrate to the back of the room, Ventus and Eraqus engaged in a very long and deep conversation that brazed many different topics, leaving Vanitas to gawpe at how amiable his father was being that day. He didn’t think he’d seen the old man smile in two years, and he was six years old.

After a few cheerful goodbyes and (hopefully) promises to return over the next few weeks- though Xehanort quite harshly opposed attending any religious services, Vanitas watched Eraqus walk with Ventus back over to Ansem and his collection of children. Vanitas felt strangely elated that his best friend had another person in his life, even if it was a man as bizarre as Eraqus. He looked over at his father, whose cordial manner was still in effect.

He hoped it would last for a while longer.

* * *

_past_

School trips were always exciting, because they meant a break from the dull and monotonous reality that was learning boring stuff no-one cared about each day. It was different; a chance to go out and see the world in all its big open wide and terrifying glory that before had only been experienced before on one side of the television.

Thus, merely a week before they were to leave, Ventus began to plan everything he and Vanitas were going to do on their excursion. Vanitas, who had at that point never even left their city before, was markedly excited.

“It’s the world museum!” Ventus thrilled as he filtered through masses of maps and study guides, trying to make sense of the obscene amount of pictures and diagrams, “I can’t believe it; we’re _so_ lucky! It’s got like, five floors each on a different time in history!”

Vanitas didn’t even know what the word history had meant before today, and according to Ventus it meant ‘the past’, which at Vanitas’ young age was attributed to any event that had already happened. He struggled to grasp the concept of life before his birth quite yet. Ventus was hoping their school trip would help illuminate him.

“Okay, but what does this any of this _mean,_ Ventus?” Vanitas queried dubiously as he picked up a large map and studied it like it held all the secrets to the universe, “Romans…floor one I get that. Then- oh I know this word aqua…aquarium. That’s where fish swim.”

Ventus looked at him, surprised but happy, “Ooh I love fish. I don’t…aquar-aqua- that word I can’t say it but is it like fish tanks? We have a big fish tank back at the house.”

Their teacher came over and confirmed it for them and verified that there _would_ be fish there, from all over the world. Ventus was elated to discover there would be an entire tank filled with clownfish and pulled Vanitas up; the two started dancing around the room that they would be able to see Nemo in real life.

A week later they all piled onto the hired coach and drove north for about an hour to a neighbouring city that boasted a university proficient enough to have acquired the required amount of artefacts to open a museum. An hour sitting still in one place was too much for most hyperactive six year olds, and the very second the doors opened they all teemed out of the vehicle and into the grand halls of the lobby.

After a lengthy lecture on what to do if they were ever separated or lost, along with the fierce threat of death if they ever left the building or got separated, a tour guide came over and lead them up the steep set of stairs to the first floor- the history of Ancient Rome and where the Romans invaded.

As the day went on, they scaled the building and discovered more interesting facts on civilisations; such as the Ancient Egyptians that built towering Pyramids, and the Ancient Greeks and their numerous Gods. Ventus was enraptured by _everything_ , and squealed in delight at every new phenomenon he saw, even if it was a ‘no entry’ sign by a staff only door. Vanitas, unsurprisingly, cared very little for the past and seemed more interested in the fish or dinosaur bones on the top floor than what some old people had done.

If fact, they spent so long gazing at skeletons in the dinosaur exhibit that their class completely left them behind, and they managed to find themselves lost together in the bewildering maze of the prehistoric era.

“We need to meet our teacher on the ground floor near the gift shop,” Ventus clarified for the ninth time, as he fast-walked around backwards through the quickly emptying displays, anxiety increasing as the open time was drew to a close.

“Yeah but where do we go?” Vanitas said slowly as they burst through a familiar set of doors to see yet another set of bones.

“If we keep moving forward, we’ll eventually get somewhere.”

“No, we’ll just end up going round and round in a circle. Look- it’s the T-Rex again, we were _just here.”_

“No we weren’t this a different T-Rex.”

Ventus was being evasive again, which Vanitas picked up on and he turned to look at his best friend flatly, “There’s only one T-Rex, Ventus. The guide even said that when we walked through here before. We’re completely lost.”

Looking deeply into Vanitas’ eyes, Ventus’ resolve refused to crumble, but his head fell into Vanitas’ shoulder and hugged him tightly, almost in a reassuring way, “We. Are not lost.”

Denial didn’t suit someone as positive as him. Ventus seemed to be avoiding the subject of leaving like the plague, and he couldn’t figure out why.

Then the truth dawned on the raven and he froze a little; and his mind wandered away with fear. He’d been trying not to think about their teacher’s looming threat from earlier, but now it’d been brought up he couldn’t keep his mind off of it. What would they _do_ if they were left behind? It had taken _ages_ to get there, and without a bus it would take even longer to get back.

“Th-they wouldn’t just leave without us,” He tried to sound confident to soothe the worrisome blond, but the warbles in his tone betrayed his own anxieties, “They aren’t that mean… I think.”

“Yeah. Right. They’ll come looking for us when they realise, we’re not there, and then we can… go… home.” Ventus’ trailed off and began nervously chewing at his nails, eyes darting around the room like he was tracking something that moved at the speed of sound.

“You alright?” Vanitas asked uneasily, like he was dancing around a field of landmines, “It’s… we’re gonna be fine. They’d get into massive trouble for leaving us anyway."

They shared a look, and Vanitas couldn’t hope to understand the incomprehensible feelings that were patterned all over the blond’s face and body like tribal tattoos. Ventus stayed silent for a moment before shaking himself like a wet dog repelling water and released the floodlights in smile form. They were so bright that Vanitas had to blink a few times before the warmth of them kicked in.

“ _Obviously!”_ He laughed and placed his hands on his hips in a very confident pose. “And _pssshhh,_ yeah we’ll be fine. How could I not be fine when you’re here with me?”

Vanitas flushed in what he would eternally deny to be embarrassment and turned away, any sort of response as dead on his tongue as the dinosaurs around him. Ventus eagerly snatched up his hand and swung it optimistically as they tried to retrace their steps and locate the staircase together.

Unfortunately, they didn’t- in fact they got even more lost to the point they ended up in an area they had never even been to before.

Vanitas, who had an old decrepit watch unlike Ventus, knew what the time was. The museum closed at 6pm; and they were supposed to leave fifteen minutes before that so that they would be back home for half past six- just in time for dinner to be ready.

Every minute his watch ticked the pile of stones that had amassed in his stomach sunk further and further. It was 6:53; they should be _home_ right now- snuggled up under a blanket and watching TV or something. Instead they were traipsing round an exhibit of stuffed animals that apparently were all extinct. Ventus had told him that word meant all of them were dead and they were never coming back.

Ventus, without a shadow of a doubt was the strongest person Vanitas knew. Circumstances be damned, Ventus was still powering on ahead through everything, treating their daunting situation like a delicacy or a reward- in that they were lucky they got to stay behind so late and they were privy to the secrets of the museum no one else as allowed to see. Vanitas just looked on in awe as Ventus confidently examined the ‘dodo’ of which there were many figures of, hypothesising what it would have eaten and where it would have lived since the two were to illiterate to make full sense of the signs.

Vanitas made a vow to himself that he would be as amazing as Ventus was one day.

“So… the dodo lived on an island. It has a biiiig beak so it probably ate stuff like fish, and it couldn’t fly- but I bet you anything it just hobbled around on its little legs like a flamingo-” Ventus chattered and gestured to specific parts of the sculpture to exacerbate his point. Vanitas didn’t say a huge amount. Just agreed with him when he could and nodded when he turned to look at him.

Even as the lights around them dimmed and the panic began to race through his veins faster than the blood was able to- Ventus’ smile shone brighter than it had all day; a beacon to guide him through the perilous waters of the museum as night.

They stopped by a big window, that was arched similarly to the church ones from his pre-school, and Ventus gazed out of it. He was tapping his foot again, and his hands were twitching in a way that told Vanitas he was actively stopping himself from biting them.

“ _Wooooow_ ,” He marvelled as his sight was attracted to every light that the town at night had to offer, “It’s so pretty; look at all of the lights! And the clock tower- they must have decorated it ‘cause it’s got fairy lights all the way to the top, look Vanitas!”

“Yeah,” he mumbled shortly and took a step forward, but his legs were starting to become lead and he stumbled a little and headbutted the window. Recoiling, he rubbed the sore spot as Ventus giggled.

“You silly, what did you do? How did you trip over your own feet? You don’t even have laces.” Vanitas could care less about what he had done and was just happy that Ventus was smiling. That’s all he could have asked for at this point.

But the clock was a countdown timer, tolling and calling them to their doom. It rang out shrilly, signifying that it had turned seven o’clock. Vanitas bit his tongue very hard as he watched Ventus stiffen, the blonde turning ramrod straight as he looked away from the floodlit tower like it were a basilisk’s eyes. He didn’t need to see it to hear the seven rings it shared with them.

“O…oh. Look at that. Its seven o’clock already,” Vanitas’ pain spiked as he turned his head to Ventus’ suddenly very shaky words, “Wo-wow. The-the bell, um, sounds really pretty in the silence, doesn’t it?”

The only noise Vanitas could muster was a strangled squeak. Ventus, the warrior who braved blistering heatwaves and tumultuous tundra all with naught but his raw sunshine-filled body, forged on through the overwhelming fear he must be drowning in and grabbed Vanitas hands, face looking happy but eyes betraying that in every sense of the word.

He was trying. He was trying so hard.

“I always wanted to hear the bell ring, but in here we never got to hear it. Now… I gue- I guess I’ve got what- what… I… _wanted,”_ Ventus’ voice finally shattered; distorted with sadness, and his knees buckled as he crumpled to the floor.

Vanitas thought he could actually hear the rip of his own heart as he saw Ventus’ delayed tears finally fall.

Worrying himself into a frantic breathy mess as Ventus curled up sobbing by the window, all Vanitas’ brain processes ceased as he dropped to his knees and squeezed his friend’s hands firmly in a way he hoped would be comforting. Neither would say a word, out of fear the shadowy hand that had vined its way around their throats would further tighten its grip.

Blinking up at Vanitas, the sadness that swam through Ventus’ glistening eyes made his friend feel a little sick to the stomach. Usually, crying irritated him, and usually if it was anyone else he would scoff and tease them for it. But when Ventus cried, or looked sad or anything, it really hurt Vanitas in ways he couldn’t yet describe. As his lonely tears rolled down the boys soft, pale skin and he reached out to wipe them away.

He would not cry. He couldn’t, because his father wouldn’t be happy. _His father._

His father was going to _kill him._

Xehanort was not really a patient man. He had already irately complained when he realised he would have to come and pick his son up from school at half-six in the evening, which was his watching _Eggheads_ and _The Weakest Link_ on TV time, before he expected dinner. Their TV didn’t have a recording function, he had lamented since their VHS had been broken since the copy of _Saving Private Ryan_ got stuck in it a year before.

What would he _do?_ Would the coach get back to the school and then they’d realise he wasn’t there and his father would just get angry and go home? Or is his teacher still looking for him and the coach hasn’t even gotten back yet and he's just sitting in the car park waiting? For half an hour? When would he get fed up and just go home? No, he wouldn’t do that. His father wouldn’t leave him… would he?

Vanitas rubbed his neck as the fear began to collude his brain. He didn’t want to be left here, he didn’t want his father to be mad, he didn’t want to be _alone in the dark._

A sniffle brought him back, and his eyes refocused on Ventus, who had stopped uncontrollably weeping and was staring at the raven with disbelief in his eyes.

“Van-Vanitas?” He stammered over his words as a side effect from the tears and a ravaged bottom lip, “Are you…! Bre-breathe Vanitas you look like you’re going to have a fit.”

Vanitas mustered up the weakest glare he could and all but fell into Ventus’ quivering embrace, “I’m just thinking about what my father is gonna say. He’s going to be _so mad_ at me.”

This was apparently not the right thing to say, because Ventus’ shaking became more turbulent before it crash landed as another round of tears into Vanitas’ now very wet shoulder.

Vanitas was just too young to understand his pain though. All he could do was hug his friend tightly and try his damnedest not to cry, lest his father have more reason to be angry.

In what must have been a symbolic move from the heavens above, the museum lights went out and all tensions boiled over so high they might as well have spilled over the floor and had the two boys boil and froth around in their own dread. Vanitas was the first to scream, and Ventus followed suit shortly after; they both scratched their throats raw in pure trepidation and clung to each other like they were the only life-line tethering them to this reality.

Thankfully, a staff member must have heard their screeching and came up to rescue them, to which they both bawled their eyes out and gripped his t-shirt as he lead them back to the front desk, where it was revealed that the rest of their class was watching a movie in the learning room whilst their teacher frantically juggled calling multiple family members and the police to search for them around the city just in case they’d wandered out. She was furious when they were reunited but hugged them tightly with relief as they still screamed and cried.

After they’d calmed down, the entire class was ushered onto the coach and sped away back home. Apparently, all of the parents and guardians had been notified, and unfortunately, Ventus and Vanitas’ had been told of their disappearing act.

Then Vanitas really did throw up; he blamed it on motion sickness. He still didn’t cry though, but he came very close. Ventus just sat there solemnly, shaking and sniffling, refusing to let go of Vanitas’ clammy hand.

After about ten minutes of reorganising every intricate machination of his own feelings, Ventus turned over to look at Vanitas’ ghostly pale face as he groaned over a bucket and said weakly, “Sorry. This was all my fault.”

Sniffing the watery vomit repulsively, the raven held the bucket between his knees and eyed the blond wearily, “What are you talking about? How could this be your fault? How could it _possibly_ be your-?”

“Because I wanted us to get lost!” He exclaimed bitterly and hid his face in his non-attached-to-Vanitas hand.

Vanitas just sat there confused. “Wait. What?”

“I lead us away from the tour man,” Ventus bewailed and buried his head back into the still-wet patch on Vanitas’ shoulder, “I wanted to get lost so we… _I_ wouldn’t have to go home- because _I_ wanted to stay at the museum forever. With you. Somewhere I really like and could wake up happy and excited with a person I like. I'm sorry, _I’m so sorry.”_

Vanitas was just bewildered. He wasn’t angry at Ventus, far from it- he’d seen how scared he had been earlier. But what was he scared of? Hadn’t he wanted to go back home?

“But… you were so scared in the museum… that you were going to be left behind.”

Ventus shook his head softly and pressed his face harder into Vanitas’ jumper, “Not of being left behind. Of that there was no-one at home worrying or waiting for me.”

Vanitas didn’t understand what Ventus had meant until a little while later. Instead he just cuddled into his best friend and let him melt into his shoulder. At some point the two fell asleep curled up together and could not even be woken up by the teacher when they arrived back at school. She had to deal with many frantic and worried parents before she could let all the children go, and the pair of almost-runaways just sat on the ledge as they waited for their rides home to arrive.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Holy hell you made it to the end of this one too? Thank you! I'm eternally grateful! :D 
> 
> This one is a bit longer than the first one, clocking in at ~5,180 words because I just can't stop myself rambling and waffling when it comes to making my sons suffer. If it seems excessive, by all means scream at me in the comments and I might go back to it and trim it down.
> 
> We return to the classroom in the next one and meet a new face! Maybe. Watch me change my mind nine-hundred times and cut that part out altogether and have to back and fuck with the tags. Oh but anything that I've written but ultimately decided not to include will become a one-shot or a side story.
> 
> I feel a little odd, making Ventus act selfishly like that, since in my mind he's still so cute and innocent- gosh even though there's a reason for it that will be revealed later in the fic, do you think it seem too out of character??


	3. historically, people usually piece themselves back together after the fall

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> the third part
> 
> \-- in which Ventus and Vanitas watch a war film in class
> 
> \-- in which Ventus and Vanitas confront their fractured relationship head on

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> good evening~ or whatever time it is for you i guess. i hope you're having a wonderful new year- and everything that follows is as amazing as it should be, you deserve it. i lied when i said i was going to bring in *a* new face last time- because i've brought in several. oops. also the second part of this is so much longer than I planned it to be, but oh well. please enjoy~

_**CHAPTER THREE** _

historically, people usually piece themselves back together after the fall

_past_

Vanitas lived nearer the city than Ventus did. There was no real way to describe the area that Vanitas lived in, other than a crappy council-house district that was shunned by those who didn’t live in it and shunned even more by the people that did. Luscious greenery that spilled out of the fields in the countryside was replaced with cracked concrete and mountains of rubbish, faded double yellow lines and an absence of road signs where they had been stolen right off their posts by locals. And that was just the physical location; the people were about ten times worse. It was bad enough that it was known as ‘that area’ that others would avoid when they could and would never walk through at night in fear of just getting mugged. And that was if you were lucky.

Vanitas was very familiar with the dirty streets of his small village, knowing the places where delinquent teenagers would loiter with needles or pills, and seedy businessmen would gather with knives and more knives. He made sure to steer exceedingly clear of those areas when Ventus came to visit him. Or it would be more appropriate to say _attempted_ to visit him, since the young raven automatically shut down any and every effort of his friend’s to go to anywhere near his house- preferring it if the boy didn’t enter the district at all. He’d lived there for the first few years he’d known him, and Vanitas was sure those were years Ventus wanted to forget.

Lugging his battered bag behind him, he staggered out onto the long crooked pavement and looked up wistfully as he heard the clattering of footsteps running toward him. Ventus tossed his bag to the ground and launched himself onto Vanitas, enveloping him in a stifling embrace and swaying side to side, giggling all the while. Vanitas was _just_ not-cruel enough to hug him back, the feeling of the energetic blond boy’s arms around him making his skin break out into goosebumps, and his hairs began to dance with each other in their alertness. Ventus pulled back and grinned so brightly that Vanitas was temporarily blinded and had to look away, but the other didn’t let go of his arms and wiggled with joy.

“Vanitas!” His voice tinkled with the delight that was laced in it, “I haven’t seen you in ages! I missed you so much!”

Vanitas raised an eyebrow and nudged Ventus’ neglected bag on the floor with his foot, “I saw you in school on Friday, stupid. It’s only been the weekend.”

Ventus snatched up his belongings and span around so they were facing the direction they needed to take to get to school, “Yeah and that’s _forever,_ it’s been two whole days!”

The blond began to joyfully skip a little, which broadcasted his happiness as loud booming music for the world to hear. Vanitas was stuck between the benevolence of sharing this divine gift with the world or selfishly keeping it sequestered so it could be his alone.

Vanitas couldn’t help the small smile that crawled onto his face as he looked down; the boy’s joy was contagious. He was right though, the time he didn’t spend with his best friend felt like forever and a half- even if he would never admit it to him.

“It must have felt like that since you went all the way to the other side of the country to look at _museums._ How could you ever be interested in looking at stuff like old bones and paintings made by dead people? You’ve already seen it all once.”

“Because it’s our _history,_ Vanitas! These are the people who shaped our world; made it like it is for us today!” Ventus glanced over at his friend who looked at him dryly, but his response was another bright smile and earnest gesture to cross the road. Vanitas took it, begrudgingly.

As the pair escaped the terror that was a chav filled council-estate, they headed toward the safer, sunnier and more serendipitously populated outer-suburb area that Ventus now lived in- and was connected to the primary school. Vanitas’ mood found it hard to deteriorate in the presence of Ventus; the boy putting illuminated Christmas trees to shame with his positivity, yet this was challenged by the notion that Ventus wasn’t just _exclusively_ his friend.

Despite being a cowardly crybaby when they were introduced, Ventus’ wimpier habits were soon outgrown by blind _ed_ and blind _ing_ optimism that drew others to him like he was a magnetically charged radiator. He wasn’t the most _popular_ kid in class, since he was at times quite quiet and mumbly, and it also didn’t help that he stuck to Vanitas like glue- and Vanitas was the most _unpopular_ kid in the school.

As the two primary objects of his ire rounded the corner and waved at Ventus, whose cheesy grin and loud holler back could be heard for miles, Vanitas’ head lowered even more so- so he didn’t have to engage with them.

Terra; being the more athletic of the two had bounded up to Ventus and crushed him under his strong-armed grip that he called a hug and ruffled his hair in a way Vanitas knew Ventus found infuriating- but overlooked when Terra did so. Aqua, who was a few years older than Ventus and had moved on to high school already- still walked with them to school, gliding around like some sort of magician in her different blue uniform.

Both elder children tried to make small-talk with Vanitas, who just ignored them in favour of tempestuously plucking new leaf-buds off of trees- in a way Ventus scorned akin to murdering babies. He’d turned vegetarian a year prior, and seemed to value all organic matter in the same regard as he did humans, even _apologising_ profusely to nettles when Vanitas stamps on them.

As Aqua split off down a drearier path that lead to the much larger high-school, Terra weaselled himself between the two nine year olds, much to Vanitas’ chagrin.

“Oh, Terra,” Ventus piped up, ever the thoughtful one, “You have your SATs soon don’t you? How are you feeling about them?”

Terra made a face, “Not…fantastic, Ven. I know Aqua said they weren’t particularly difficult but,” He rubbed the back of his neck as his stupid haircut brushed his nape, “I think I need a little more help. I spoke to Dad about it though and he agreed to get me an English tutor.”

Ventus’ eyes lit up, “Oooh lucky. Wish I could have an English tutor- a tutor in everything really since I'm not as clever as you or Aqua.”

“I dunno, it makes me feel a little… inferior to Aqua I guess. It’ll be okay though,” He turned to Vanitas with a slightly smug look, “‘Cause your Dad is gonna be the one tutoring me Vanitas.”

Vanitas’ blood flow began to panic, suddenly deprived from oxygen as he held his breath subconsciously. He blinked up at Terra; a tall boy with a wicked figure- but a very small brain.

Ventus looked shocked, “Mr. Xehanort? No way, wow. I haven’t seen him in ages. Not since…ah, he um… left his job and began spending more time at home than at the community centre.”

Ventus looked awkwardly over at Vanitas, and loyally filled in for his friend not saying anything. The blond boy bit his lip, a little uneasy and attempted to steer the topic away from the Vanitas’ father as Vanitas quietly descended into the throes of distress. The raven didn’t know why he was so spooked and tried to shake off the spiders that were crawling around in his intestines by falling back on the more callous aspect of his personality.

“Good luck with that,” His voice wasn’t as acerbic as he’d intended it to be, but it came out scathing enough for Terra’s smile to fall, “Father hasn’t ever opened a book in all the time I've known him. You’re doomed.”

Where Ventus would usually rebuff him for his attitude, he surprisingly didn’t comment, and hummed a little to distract the duo with an unusual looking bright pink tractor that was struggling to reverse into a field of cows. Vanitas’ mood had been shot down before the front line even emerged, and he emanated a dark, moody aura for the remainder of the journey, missing the concerned looks his best friend kept throwing at him.

Once the three reached the building and padded their way up to the second floor for the juniors- they split with Ventus and Vanitas heading into the first door on the right, and Terra being in his final year stalked up the hallway to the back on his long legs. When the best friends emerged into the classroom they collectively groaned, both clocking at the same time that their days would begin with Maths- and trudged to their far-right hand corner.

With the start of the day being not so stellar for Vanitas, the lasting impact of it dragged on in what he could only describe as a satanic endurance test, concluding dully with History in the late afternoon. Delighted Ventus would glisten whenever the subject came around and it made Vanitas’ hellish day just a little bit better. Hope bubbled in his chest as the teacher offhandedly mentioned they would be watching a video to end the day- but his heart dropped like a stone at learning its contents.

Ventus, who was brimming with anticipation with the prospect of learning _more_ about how their country was built, clambered onto their desk in the back of the classroom so he could see the board better. Their current class topic, being World War Two- had been a fascinating matter to Ventus, albeit a little startling and disturbing when he really thought about it deeply.

The video was an educational skit-filled documentary on governmental policies and actions; all authentic looking in black and white, paired with distorted audio typical of the time period. He watched on in rapture; only jumping at the loud gunshots and the odd row that broke out in a funny accent he only ever heard on TV.

He supposed TV aimed to replicate past accents to add a sense of realism in its fiction- yet what enticed Ventus was that this was not fiction but all fact.

It wasn’t until it got to a rather argumentative portion where Winston Churchill seemed to disagree with every other person he spoke to, that Ventus noticed the shaking beside him. He tore his eyes away from the action to see his best friend Vanitas hunched over the desk, hands clamped firmly over his ears and a tremor running through his body.

Blue eyes widened and the blond swung his legs over to the raven, perched over him, unsure whether he should touch him or not.

“Vanitas?” He had whispered, and nudged him ever so lightly with his finger as not to initiate a chain reaction, “Vanitas are you okay?”

He didn’t reply, and Ventus felt worry hitch in his throat. He knew Vanitas would murder him in cold blood if he raised this with the teacher, so he took his own initiative. Slowly he fell back into his chair and snaked an arm around his friend, stroking his shoulder comfortingly. He even leaned into his best friend and began to hum very quietly in the way Vanitas liked.

“It’s alright. I’m right here.”

Vanitas made a noise that sounded like an angry polar bear that was stubbornly wobbling on the last piece of ice before it melted, “No it’s not alright, get off me you freak,” Though his words didn’t have the bite they usually did. Ventus loosened his grip but would not leave Vanitas’ side.

After the movie began to die down, Vanitas raised his head; eyes a little puffy. His glower at Ventus was charged by gamma rays, but he didn’t shake off his arm, “It’s the loud noises, I can’t stand them. All the shouting…and the gunshots.”

Where most kids would have pried deeper, Ventus had the sense to smile warmly at his friend and worm a hand up to his face and boop him on the nose, “It’s okay, I’ve got you now,” His grin turned foxy, “But you almost cried. Watch out you might turn into a prune.”

Then Vanitas really did shake off Ventus’ arm and shuffled away so his chair was cramped in the corner of the desk, as far away from Ventus’ teasing as he could get. His face retained its storms but Ventus knew Vanitas was thankful inside.

* * *

_present_

Vanitas didn’t have an incredible amount of friends. For the greatest portion of his life; he hadn’t really wanted nor needed many since Ventus had wholly supplied his need for social interaction, by hanging off of his arm like a whiny child to its fed-up mother. Ventus liked him, and he liked Ventus- there wasn’t much more to it.

He didn’t have the foggiest in _why_ Ventus adored him so much, since the boy was positively the friendliest, most tolerant and kindest person on the whole planet and Vanitas was just… not. Their personalities were polar opposites and clashed in almost every way possible that to onlookers it would seem akin to an atomic bomb that was launched to quell a war of ideals.

That was in primary school at least. They were older now, and with age came new arguments and personality shifts that unwillingly shaped a new world upon Vanitas’ doorstep. They hadn’t been on… best friend terms since primary school, since Vanitas’ eleventh birthday. On that day, things took a turn for the unexpected, which culminated in a lonely summer for the both of them apart- and they opened the scary doors to high school without each other.

Their friendship had depreciated from what was once a steel bond reinforced with titanium and lead, to a malleable aluminium, which had become crinkled and bent out of shape in the abstinence- becoming a shadow of its former self.

They’d certainly remained _friends,_ that never changed- and both knew neither would really be able to handle it if they completely cut the other from their lives. But it remained strained and uncomfortable, almost a ghostly tribute of what they’d had.

They would sit together in lessons though no longer by choice. Vanitas would tease or pick on Ventus occasionally; though the broken silence would soon recover from its wounds.

For a while, that was fine, the uncomfortable feelings in their chests never went away, but the consequences of both their actions were still firmly lodged on their shoulders like they were carrying their own crucifixes.

This lasted for a whole year; their first year of high school together, and it wasn’t a secret to anybody. The two’s unlikely alliance was well-known with pretty much most children in the city, the two schools they had ever attended were the old ones in the area. When such a tried and tested friendship suddenly split and nobody knew why, people wanted answers.

Yet no answers would they receive. People rarely approached Vanitas with his reputation preceding him; he wore it like armour, and it trailed behind him like a cape. Ventus would just feign adequacy or act innocent and insist that he had no idea what they were talking about, Vanitas and he were fine!

Vanitas and he were not fine, and it was affecting Ventus greatly. Their time together had whittled down to lesson time only, and Ventus couldn’t stand the pain he felt when he saw his best friend… former best friend look at him so coldly. Though he hated it more when he didn’t look at him at all.

Toward the end of year seven, they even stopped walking home together, Aqua and Terra picking up the slack. He loved them, of _course_ he loved them, but he missed Vanitas.

Abruptly and without any warning, year seven ended and another cruel summer without Vanitas stretched before the lonely blond that had him distracting himself with homework and traipsing around after Aqua in her volunteer placement in the hospital. He had no idea how she got it, she’s just amazing like that.

And so, another year at high school started, and apparently the thread that had been keeping the two tethered together had been snipped. In their first maths class, which _surprise surprise_ they ended up seated together again, Ventus plucked up courage after about ten gruelling minutes of pretending to focus on surds to talk to him.

“Hey… Vanitas,” Ventus had mumbled nervously, pressing his palms flat on the table to prevent himself from nibbling on his nails, “How… how was your summer?”

Vanitas made a slight indication he had heard Ventus by flicking his bored yellow eyes at him, but otherwise said nothing. Ventus’ stomach began to hurt.

“It was a bit of a crazy heatwave we had, huh. I was in shorts and t-shirts all month. Um… did you see the highest temperature it got to? It was 38 degrees! Pretty...uh... it was pretty hot wasn't it- it felt like that time I went to Florida...”

His voice trailed off as he got no reaction from Vanitas at all; having turned to look out of the window they were seated next to. After a minute of nothing, Ventus’ heart- which was already wallowing in the pit of his stomach, sank down to the bottom of his shoe. Vanitas was _so_ angry with him he was… ignoring him?

That hurt. It hurt so much that Ventus turned away and flinched, feeling physical pain in his chest. He wouldn’t cry though, _he wouldn’t._ Vanitas hated crying, and that was the last thing he wanted when trying to reconcile.

Eventually, after wavering through his options, some unbridled confidence bloomed from a seed of despair that had planted itself in his lungs last year. As the class ended, and Vanitas hastily stood up in his seat to leave, Ventus reached out and grabbed his hand tightly so he couldn’t get away.

Nobody noticed, their little corner of the room akin to that of a box of shame that people would scorn and kick for fun, and thus Vanitas’ small growl of intimidation went vastly unheard. Ventus ignored it, recognising it as one of Vanitas’ defensive noises when he felt threatened. Ventus knew he would never, _could_ never hurt Vanitas.

At least on purpose.

“Please don’t leave!” He spluttered out and clattered out of his chair so they were of the same height, “I… I need to talk to you!”

Vanitas’ tensed hand relaxed, and he turned around to face his ex-best friend, eyes so guarded from emotion Ventus couldn’t hope to know what he was thinking.

He must have looked as desperate as he felt because the raven’s gaze softened a little and he leaned back against a table. His face pulled up into an expectant look, but he still didn’t say anything. Ventus took a shaky breath.

“I'm sorry. I'm so so _so sorry_ for what I said, what I did… what I forced upon you. It wasn’t fair of me to do that because I was just so…I didn’t consider your feelings beforehand and I should have- but I didn’t ‘cause I'm dumb-!”

“Ventus,” Vanitas ground out, face looking a little distressed as his jaw shook a little with the pressure of his teeth being clamped together, “Just… stop. I don’t… I don’t _need_ this right now.”

Repulsive bile lurched in the blond’s chest as Vanitas looked away uncertainly and gripped his arm, a pose his friend adopted more often than he was comfortable with- though he was fairly sure of its meaning. He wanted to do something, anything but he couldn’t. He’d tried so hard, but he understood.

His hands were tied. He grimaced at Vanitas’ words and let go of his hand; it dropped back down to his side.

“I know. God I know, and I'm sorry. But…” He vacillated on what he wanted to say, it swimming on the tip of his tongue but his mouth was closed and he couldn’t say it.

“But what? What can you do.” It came out harsher than intended but Vanitas stuck with his half-glare and stepped backwards into a more comfortable and less vulnerable position.

“I'm going to repair our relationship!” Ventus burst out and shovelled all of his books into his bag and shot Vanitas a worthless grin. He missed the way Vanitas froze and looked almost sad as he turned to walk away. Ventus was scraping the bottom of the barrel for his confidence as it had watered thin.

“I will! I’ll do it I swear!” He cried in a very over-exaggerated way and blustered out of the room in a fluffy of papers as he swept them off the desks. He thought he knocked someone over on the way out, but if he did, he didn’t turn back to help them. He didn’t want them to see the tears streaming down his face.

* * *

It would have been stupid for him to go after Terra or Aqua for comfort, or for any ideas on how to mend his fractured relationship, so he headed brusquely toward the top floor of the school.

The top floor was known to be the most chilled out area of the entire building; as the previous year, in a bid to try and seem cool and hip to his students, the deputy head had added as many comfy and relaxing areas he could. Also because the students were clogging up the hallways and dropping litter everywhere and the adults were getting sick of it. The walls were festooned top to bottom with student’s art, design sheets and swirling port-folios that were certainly a picture for sore eyes.

Ventus draped himself over the back of a plush red sofa that had flecks of paint smattered over the cushions and groaned as he rubbed his face into the cold fabric- trying to wipe away the feeling of lingering tears.

“I need _ideas_ Naminé,” he bemoaned and rolled over to face the scribbling girl, who had refused to show him what she was drawing that day, “How do I make him forgive me?”

She stopped and began tapping the pen on her bottom lip in deep thought, other hand curling protectively over the top edge of her drawing pad, “You can’t _make_ somebody forgive you Ven, you can’t manipulate their emotions. What you can do though is apologise to him.”

“I have apologised!” He wailed and buried his head in the seating, “I’ve done everything… but he barely talks to me anymore. I miss him…”

Naminé looked down on him sadly and sketched a few short cutting lines on her pad, “Well… are you sure you’re apologising for the right thing?”

“What?”

“In my experience, if someone’s still mad after apologising- it’s for one of two reasons. Either because they’re rude and a brute who doesn’t care about you-”

“No he isn’t!” Ventus blurted and looked up at her standoffishly.

She replied with a dry look, “Right. So in that case it’s because he’s still holding some resentment against you and you’ve apologised for the wrong thing. He might still be angry at you for something you’ve done that you haven’t yet apologised for.”

“Like what?”

“I don’t know. How could I? You two used to spend all your time together, and then suddenly when we got to high school you just didn’t anymore.”

The blonde girl turned back to her sketching, leaning over Ventus to grab a blue from the pot he’d knocked over. Ventus sat up from his debilitated position and leant his head back on the red plush, closing his eyes deep in thought. Was that possible? Was Vanitas annoyed for a completely different reason?

“Have you actually asked him why he's mad?” Naminé said suddenly, not pausing her shading.

After a second, Ventus flushed a deep red, “Oh…ah…no. I haven’t. I guess I… always assumed it was because of that day that he was mad but…” He trailed off and breathed in the smell of chemical paints and charcoal, wrinkling his nose a little.

“Well I’d advise starting with that then. Then if he tells you, you can work on improving whatever it is.” She smiled and with an accentuated flick of her pencil, she turned around the pad to show Ventus.

His blue eyes widened considerably at the image. It was a sketch of him and Vanitas sitting together and talking about something quite animatedly. Vanitas was smiling Ventus’ favourite smile, the one where he could see his cheek dimples and his cheeks curved with the upturn of his mouth. His golden eyes would glisten, just as they did in this drawing as he listened intently to whatever Ventus would jabber on about. His smile was soft, and it was a look that if Ventus could, he would have it inscribed on all monumental sculptures around the world. It would make the world a much happier place. In the sketch he was just sitting there with his hands up and grinning as he talked to his best friend.

“This is…” Ventus was at a loss for words. He was entranced by the image and traced the outline of Vanitas’ hair delicately. “Can I keep this?! It’s… _phenomenal.”_

She smiled wisely, “No. You can’t have it, I will not have rips in my sketchbook- not even for you. If you like I will draw something like it on a canvas or something and I can give you that. It can be an early Christmas present or something.”

Ventus gasped happily and hugged the book to his chest, “You… you would?! I would make it a _family heirloom.”_

Naminé chuckled and pried it free from his grabby hands, “You’re so gone for him it’s a wonder you lasted this long without him.”

Ventus didn’t even hear her and bolted off of the settee to his feet and grabbed Naminé by her small dainty hands, “Thank you Naminé! You’re the bestest ever! I’m gonna go talk to him now- wish me luck!”

“Good luck Ven,” She echoed and looked back at her drawing. In truth, she had only ever seen Vanitas act the way in her drawing whilst around Ventus, he never even _smiled_ at anyone else. The raven had a rather negative reputation for being… quite literally an asshole to everyone, was crude, rude and never did any classwork. People found him unpleasant but would’ve had to have been blind to miss how he acted around Ventus; like another personality altogether. Ventus was well liked- if a bit shy, but was friends with Sora so everyone had to like him on pain of death.

Naminé herself rarely spoke to Vanitas, but even she could agree his temper had been worse over the past year since he and Ventus stopped being a certified double-act. Hopefully they could become friends again; and Vanitas wouldn’t have to have a month’s detention for slashing the tyres on her geography teacher’s car.

* * *

“I'm going to repair our relationship!” Ventus had shouted and stomped his foot in defiance. Vanitas got the sense he wasn’t going to back down, and involuntarily flinched at the volume. “I will! I’ll do it I swear!”

And with that, he sprinted out the classroom. Vanitas looked at where he’d gone in irritation, grumbling to himself as he jostled his backpack and waded through tables to the exit, ignoring the teacher’s pointed looks.

Ventus was trying to make things right with them. He would never stop trying, and secretly inside it made Vanitas happy- even if he quashed those feelings down to the bottom of his soul. He couldn’t. _He just couldn’t._ It hurt him so much to see Ventus in such misery but there was more to this. Ventus knew there was more to it than that. His best friend. The small, bright ball of sunshine that he was dimming with his darkness.

He’d forgiven him- of course he’d forgiven him. He’d never even been mad, and there had been nothing really to forgive- but he just couldn’t.

The second he stepped out of the doorframe he tripped up over somebody who had just been lying on the floor.

“Watch where the fuck you’re going asswipe,” He hissed at the lump on the floor as he scrambled to his feet.

“You watch it Vanitas,” The figure, who was revealed to be Riku, glared and picked himself up, “What did you do to Ventus now?”

“None of your fucking business,” He spat, “Why don’t you go piss off and die somewhere else?”

“Charming. I’m Ventus’ friend too and this crap you’ve been pulling since last year is _pathetic_ ,” Riku brushed a hand through his silky silver hair and leaned against the wall, “Everyone’s had it up to here with your shit, Vanitas. You two used to be best friends, and now you feel nothing when you make him cry?”

Vanitas’ heart began screaming for oxygen as he forgot how to breathe. He’d made Ventus cry. _Again._ How could he have done that. He was the most awful person on the planet. His internal meltdown must have shown on his face as Riku just looked at him patronisingly, which made Vanitas even angrier- but he couldn’t voice a single insult.

“Oh you _do_ feel something. For what reason then could you be shutting him out like this and making him so miserable he cries to Sora about it almost weekly,” Riku was ruthless; each word feeling like a relentless stab right in his gut, that he then twisted and reached in and pulled out his entrails to display to everyone. Vanitas would not lose to Riku, he _wouldn’t,_ because he was better than him, but he just felt defeated. His sense of personal strength was strong sure, but his devotion to Ventus was so much stronger.

“Weekly?” He said, willing his voice not to crack and winced at his failure. Riku regarded him, an unknown expression on his face.

“Yes, a lot. You didn’t answer my question of why. If there’s a reason, can’t you fix it?”

“No!” Vanitas retorted and flinched, “It… its _not that simple!”_

 _“_ Then _make it simple,”_ Riku snapped, turquoise eyes furrowing as he gripped him by the wrist and tried to lead him away, but Vanitas screamed and yanked his hand back. Riku looked at him in alarm but didn’t comment on it.

“Just come with me, asshole.”

_“Why?!”_

Riku’s pride prevented him from responding, and his rage was building up inside him by the way his clenched fists shook. He closed his eyes and aloud, counted to ten. He opened them and looked a little calmer, but he turned away and began to walk down the corridor.

“Just follow me. If you even care about Ventus you’ll want to repair the damage you’ve done to him.”

Vanitas just bubbled with rage, but a sorrow washed over him and extinguished the flames. Ventus was seemingly more important than his pride because he hung his head and trailed after Riku, not seeing the taller boy’s smirk.

Riku lead him to the top floor of the school, where Vanitas had never once been because he didn’t attend his art or DT classes, and he was surprised in how colourful it was. As they walked down the corridor, a door flung open and a blond they both knew very well scampered in the opposite direction. Vanitas rolled his eyes.

Inside the room were a few students Vanitas didn’t recognise, painting or drawing. He noticed Naminé was admiring her sketchbook with a knowing look and she quickly stuffed it away when she saw them. Vanitas practically fell into the red sofa and found that it was warm. His heart jumped as he realised who had just been sitting there and he basked in the warmth a little, Riku looked at him oddly and Naminé just gave them both a dry look.

“What am I now- a therapist.” She muttered as she observed how Vanitas seemed to melt into the red speckled settee, like he was enveloping himself in Ventus’ embrace.

“He wants to reconcile with Ventus but ‘ _it’s just not that simple’_ ,” Riku mocked and reclined on the sofa Naminé was on, hands behind his head and legs crossed. With her here he felt more in his element.

“Why does everyone always come to _me_ for these problems?” She sighed at Riku, who shrugged with a shrewd grin, that she huffed at with a smile.

“‘Cause you’re the best at this Naminé,” Riku admitted and nudged her, to which she grinned herself.

“Wow. Love you too.” She coughed daintily and turned to Vanitas who was eyeing them dubiously. Naminé and Riku were very good friends, so it wasn’t a surprise Riku had taken him to her.

“Vanitas. I'm going to say just this. If Ventus really means that much to you, you need to be willing to forgo whatever it is that’s tormenting you-” Vanitas’ eyes almost flew off of his face with how high they rose, “-in order to befriend him again. I know you’ve forgiven him for whatever petty fight you had, but there’s something else in you that doesn’t want this.”

No wonder Naminé was known as a witch amongst their alumni. Vanitas had never really spoken to her, but he knew second hand that the amount she knew was scary. He would rather die than admit she was right though.

“Where the hell do you get off saying that shit?” He grunted and gave her a sharp glare, which had Riku seething at him next to her.

Naminé looked at him airily, “You couldn’t scare me if you tried. My older brother Lauriam carries around knives, which definitely hurt more than words.”

“You _fucking what-”_

“Alright, you know what to do now Vanitas you prick-ass prick,” Riku snapped and practically shielded Naminé from him, who didn’t look like she needed shielding at all and looked up at Riku flatly.

Vanitas _would always_ have the last jab, “Great. I don’t know where you two get off on lecturing me with this shit but do me a favour and go fuck yourselves. Maybe if you focused less on me and more on yourself Riku- you wouldn’t be drowning in Sora’s shadow,” He sneered, feeling delight as Riku’s face purpled with rage.

And with that he stormed out of the room and headed for the canteen, where Ventus would no doubt be. He had to fix this somehow, and even if he wouldn’t admit it, Naminé was right.

Enough was enough. He would never hurt Ventus again.

* * *

Ventus deliberated over which crappy apology food he should buy Vanitas from the school canteen. The raven may _act_ rather brash, curt and vulgar- but his palate was anything but. It was a well-guarded secret he tried his best to hide from everyone; that he was borderline obsessed with sugar- and Ventus was lucky enough to be privy to it. It was mostly because Ventus would buy Vanitas sweets everyday after school since Vanitas couldn’t afford to.

His loose change would jangle around in his pocket everyday to remind him of his loss.

Stuffing a lukewarm ham toastie in his mouth and with three types of sweets in his bag, he scanned the room for a mop of black hair even though he knew it wouldn’t be here. Vanitas didn’t usually eat at lunchtime and usually just loitered somewhere; Ventus had once seen him lurking around the car park out of the window. Offering Aqua a cheesy grin, who just laughed lightly and pulled out a chair for him- he plonked himself at the table and chewed his now soggy bite of sandwich.

“You look happy today,” She commented, as she swirled her fork around her salad and rested her hand on her head, “I was going to ask if you were okay, I heard you had another spat with Vanitas.”

Ventus wasn’t even surprised that she already knew. Aqua knew everything. “I did, and I thought about it for a little while and I've made my decision.”

“Decision?” She asked softly and forked some rocket into her mouth and chewed. When Ventus didn’t tell her she asked again, “What’s this decision about Ven?”

Ventus steeled his courage and turned to address the table, “Today’s the day,” He said aloud to whoever was listening, fists clenched under the table, “Today is the day that I’m going to make up with Vanitas.”

There was a soft murmur of appreciation which boosted his confidence.

“Wait… make up? You two are fighting?” Terra questioned from next to Aqua, and everyone in a nine mile radius rolled their eyes. Aqua reached up and rubbed his arm in what would seem to anyone but Terra as a very patronising move.

“Yes Terra. That’s why Ven has been walking home with us after school for the last few months,” Aqua said kindly. She turned to the blonde and smiled encouragingly, “What brought this on? You’ve had little tiffs before. Is this about what you spoke with Naminé about?”

Ventus swore she wasn’t even human sometimes. Just an omniscient, omnibenevolent- forget that an _omnipotent_ being that had come down from the heavens to make everyone’s life so much better.

“Yeah,” he supplied and took another bite of his sandwich. To his surprise, Aqua seemed okay with it. She’d told him before that she didn’t like Vanitas and thought he was bad for Ventus but she had also said that he made him happy. Aqua claimed she preferred him happy with Vanitas than sad without, which was a definite plus.

Now he just had to make it up to Vanitas. He would do whatever it takes.

“Ohhhh,” Terra said thoughtfully waving one of Aqua’s leaves around like a flag, “So that’s why I never see him. That’s a shame I've been meaning to talk to him about something.”

Ventus looked at him dubiously, “What? I thought you hated him.”

Terra looked deep in thought, “Hate him? Why would I hate him?”

“You and Aqua just went up and harassed him a few months ago!”

Aqua swiftly got out of her chair and headed away from their table to behind Ventus. The blond just kept up the puzzled conversation with Terra equally as confused as he was, unaware Aqua was heading out of the door. She had cleverly spied a head of black spikes loitering outside and was on her way to intercept what she assumed may be another argument.

Yet Aqua was also very perceptive. She knew that even though Vanitas acted ostentatious most of the time, he also valued Ventus exceedingly and certainly wasn’t happy about their argument earlier. She didn’t doubt Vanitas was here to act contrite; but having seen the light and resolve in Ventus’ smile- she was determined to make sure he was happy again.

She quietly slipped out the door, and Vanitas looked up at her tersely, “What. I'm not here to start a fight if that’s what you’re thinking.”

“I know,” She hummed, “All Ven wants is for the both of you to be happy. He’s very excited about his plan to make up with you.”

Vanitas’ eyed narrowed and his lip curled up into a snarl, “What the fuck do you care. A few months ago you were threatening me with my life if I ever spoke to him again.”

Aqua regarded Vanitas; nonplussed. To many people, he’d look terrifying- he had just the right features for a very menacing face and threatening vibe. When she was younger, and he’d been protecting Ventus behind his back and hissing at her- even if she was much older than him, he had scared her. Yet through experience she knew it was an empty threat; Vanitas wouldn’t hurt a fly. He just _looked_ scary.

“I care for Ven’s happiness,” She trilled and leant down so she was in his face. Predictably he blanched and backed up, glare red-hot, “And unfortunately _you_ make him happy. Or at least you used to. Now you just make him miserable and I think I speak for everyone when I say that needs to end.”

Her voice was commanding and Vanitas felt himself unconsciously shrink back. He didn’t say anything because even though he was _Vanitas,_ and he won at everything, nobody won an argument against Aqua. Thus it would be pointless to start one.

“I love Ventus very much,” She went on, and her words made his entire body pulse with an electric current he couldn’t control, “So hereby is my warning, _don’t screw this up._ You make him cry again today and I will personally, make you regret it for the rest of your life.”

Vanitas didn’t doubt her words. He wanted to retain his dignity though, so he just closed his eyes and leaned against the wall with folded arms in a very dismissive stance, “Whatever. If he wants to _make up_ with me,” he scoffed even though it was the one thing he wanted most, “He's going to have to come out here. I ain’t going in that shithole- it smells like piss.”

Without another word, the woman of wonder whirled around and thrust open the doors. She glided in and over to where Ventus had his head on the table and Terra was ruffling up his hair again whilst Sora massaged his shoulders. Vanitas’ heart lurched at all the people surrounding him. He had so many people who cared about him, cared for him- and yet he yearned for Vanitas’ company? Riku had said he bemoaned to Sora about it, Aqua and Terra too- and by the looks of it, Naminé as well.

Why? Why did Ventus care about someone like him?

Aqua leaned down and whispered into Ventus’ ear and Vanitas just managed to look away before the blond jolted up and looked over in his direction- then was suddenly speeding around the tables in his direction. He steeled his courage, bottled up his fractured nerves and pesky emotions, and erected a frosty front that he was sure Ventus would almost immediately melt with his dazzling sunshine.

Ventus blustered through the double doors with something in his mouth and sized up Vanitas like he was preparing for a full on brawl. Ventus had never won a fight in his life and Vanitas would sooner remove his own heart than hurt him.

“So—y,” He chewed through what appeared to be a cheese and ham toastie with how the colours mixed up in his mouth. He swallowed and wiped his mouth. Vanitas gave a little snort but Ventus’ charm was already softening him.

“You wanted to apologise. _Again_ ,” Vanitas drawled and faked a yawn, “You need to stop, you’re beginning to look desperate.”

“I'm very desperate,” Ventus affirmed and for one of very few times in his life, Ventus actually looked serious. His light but still visible eyebrows were knitted up in a frown that crinkled the smooth skin of his forehead. The little creases around his mouth as he tensed his lips did not waver which showed he wasn’t as anxious as usual- which shocked Vanitas. Ventus was almost always worried about something, but now he looked so sure, so determined and strong.

Of course he was strong, even now Ventus was still the most incredible person he knew.

“I've missed you,” The blond carried on, eyes looking down a little with sorrow, “It’s been tough this past year because I've always spent most of my time with you. Without that- it always felt like something was missing, and after a while it really began to hurt.”

Some panicked alarm was ringing in the back of Vanitas’ mind but he pushed it back so far he had to close his eyes in disorientation. Even in the black his world span. _I've missed you too._

“But every time I've tried… tried to do something I've always just… kinda… its-its always just kinda been a feeling-xplosion of what _I’ve_ felt, what I've wanted and what I’m sad about. I've always said that I'm sorry for what I did.”

“You need to stop apologising for that-”

Ventus cut him off, “I know, and from this point I am. What I'm trying to say is that I never… I never asked what _you_ felt about this situation.”

Vanitas felt his eyebrows get tangled up in his hairline.

“So I'm asking you now. What do you feel about this?” The blond finished and took in a deep breath- then doubled over and shivered. The anticipation must’ve been killing him, and he's probably very glad he has it all out.

Vanitas was unsure what to say. He didn’t want to mention how he _really_ felt because he’s about ninety percent sure he’d catch fire from several different sources, but there were some things he had to get off of his chest too.

He took in an inaudible deep breath- through his nose, “I’m not angry at you. I definitely don’t hate you, hell I don’t even resent you in any way for…” He coughed, “My birthday a few years ago.”

Vanitas unwillingly witnessed Ventus go rigid and turn to look up so he had to close his eyes again, “I think I just panicked. I suppose you know a bit about my situation and why I just _couldn’t-”_

“Yeah I get it. And I know it won’t be something to consider in the future. I was a dumb idiot eleven year old who couldn’t control what he was saying,” Ventus sighed and wiped a hand down his face, then gently put his palms on Vanitas shoulders.

Inside, every one of Vanitas’ cells was screaming at him to argue back and disagree. But he couldn’t. It was better this way.

They stood together in silence, just not quite looking at each other’s faces before the blond caved in and threw his arms around his best friend- and Vanitas could finally relax. He rested his forehead on Ventus’ shoulder and slowly wrapped his arms around his waist. Happiness flooded him and the light that used to shine on him all day, twenty four seven was glowing behind his eyes. He felt warm, happy and at peace, just by being held by the person in this world he cared for the most.

He buried his head into Ventus’ jumper even deeper and breathed in, the familiar smell of his best friend rushed back to him and flowed through his body like a hormone- exciting all of his senses. He groaned softly as he heard the boy chuckle.

“I've missed you so much,” Ventus breathed and cradled Vanitas head like he was a precious new-born, “Every day without you was like a world without colour or something- it was just flat… dull…pointless.”

Vanitas wasn’t able to quell his squeak of embarrassment, and hoped it was muffled by Ventus’ clothing, “You’re such a sap. You’ve got so many other friends- much nicer friends than me. How could you get yourself so het up about someone like me?”

Ventus pulled back, looking outraged. Or at least, a Ventus-version of outraged, “You… _you idiot!_ You mean so much more to me than that. You’re my bestest friend ever, I love spending time with you, why wouldn’t I miss you?”

“Because!” Vanitas burst like a balloon filled with depressive gas, “I'm a fucking asshole! All I do is bring you down, bring others down, hurt people. I know I'm a poor excuse for a human being- and yet you stick around. _Why?_ Why do you hurt yourself like this?”

Ventus’ face looked crestfallen and tears began to stream from his bluebell irises, he inhaled a shuddering breath and gripped Vanitas’ face tightly, but softly thumbed his cheek scar, “You know why. Because even under your rough, mean and grouchy exterior is a big old softie that just wants to be loved. That softie is kind, generous and fiercely loyal to those he cares about. To me, you are the most amazing person I know. And… if being your friend- your _best_ friend is hurting me, then I'll happily feel this pain forever.”

Vanitas didn’t cry, because Vanitas isn’t allowed to cry. But he sure as hell came close.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> thank you so much for making it to the end- again! it means a lot to me that you've stuck around to the third chapter of this brain-fart of mine. i've planned most of the next chapter, and its going to be a rough one- as in where many of those scary tags and warnings start coming in.
> 
> i started throwing a few other characters in now, since our boys don't really live in a vaccum. i love namine and riku so it was like a compulsion i had to add them haha
> 
> so, what did you think?! i would really appreciate the feedback! this one was soooo long, did it drag on a bit or was it okay? please let me know! :D


	4. blood that flowed

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> the fourth part
> 
> \-- theres a new girl in school and Ventus cajoles Vanitas into helping show her around. after, the pair walk home from school and get into a spot of trouble (GRAPHIC DEPICTIONS OF VIOLENCE)
> 
> \-- Eraqus takes the pair suit shopping for prom (GRAPHIC DEPICTIONS OF FLUFF)

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> hi diddly ho i'm back with this shit again.
> 
> so, i should be upfront about this chapter, please, if you have not already, go back and thoroughly through the tags. this chapter's first half contains blood, violence and suffering and shit like that in it. this only concerns the first part however, and the second half is so radically different. it's just full of sugary fluff that even made my poor straight male beta squirm. so there's also that i guess.
> 
> please enjoy this, but if you're sensitive please re-read those tags and proceed with caution.

_**CHAPTER FOUR** _

blood that flowed

_past_

Two weeks fresh into September, two weeks after everybody had safely settled back in after the long, long summer holidays, and two weeks after the gruelling syllabus had started for a new year at school- a new girl arrived.

Specifically, she was new in Ventus and Vanitas’ year- and her birthday was apparently the same day as Vanitas’, which according to no-rulebook-ever meant that he had to show her around and make her feel welcome. Yet it was to be so.

And by this, everyone knew that Vanitas would ignore her completely and Ventus would end up doing it all instead.

As the insipid chore of History class came to a close, Ventus (who for some reason that made Vanitas wonder why they were even friends) _loved_ History, thus was in a very excitable and happy-go-lucky mood.

Ventus must have predicted Vanitas would make a beeline for the exit to avoid responsibilities as once their teacher relinquished them to their lunch time, he bounded up to the small, frail looking girl and seated himself on the edge of her table.

“Hey!” He smiled with a wattage that fuelled around three whole power-grids, “I’m Vanitas’ friend Ventus- but call me Ven. I know Vanitas was supposed to take you round and stuff, but um, I’m gonna be real with you here: he won’t. Sooo, if you like I can show you around! If-if you’d like.”

The small pale blonde girl looked up at him; her big blue eyes that reminded Vanitas of Sora’s looked uneasy- likely from nervousness. He was almost convinced she was going to say no or pass out on the spot; to his surprise she nodded gently and pushed her chair back swiftly, so it didn’t scrape the floor.

If at all possible, Ventus’ smile grew wider and Vanitas had to turn away before he went blind. His best friend scampered over to him and tugged his arm very gently, indicating that he didn’t have a choice and was coming too.

Vanitas audibly groaned, which caused someone who hadn’t left the room yet to snicker. They were lucky Ventus was restraining him, or they would’ve lost all their teeth.

As the three tiptoed/skipped /sauntered down the corridor from left to right respectively, arms linked by the ball of sunshine in the middle, Vanitas tried to catch a glimpse of the very thick-looking sketchbook the girl was holding.

Ventus, the divine being he was, noticed Vanitas’ vague interest and spoke up, “Hey Naminé… you really seem to enjoy drawing in that sketchbook. Is art and drawing a passion of yours?”

She glanced up at Ventus with an odd faraway look in her eyes and tilted her head a little, and Vanitas could have sworn she was gazing right through his friend and into him.

Slowly, she nodded again and looked away, one arm still linked in Ventus’ grip- the other an even tighter hold on her sketchpad.

Ventus must have had something strange for breakfast because his confidence was almost unwavering, “Wow, that’s really cool. I can’t draw at _all,_ all of my paintings in art and stuff just end up looking like bad rip-offs of Picasso paintings.”

To Vanitas’ surprise, the shy blonde girl who had yet to even speak that day laughed softly.

Promptly, as the three emerged in the outdoor break and play area for the juniors- she turned to them and whispered, “I don’t think it’s possible to be bad at art. It’s just a style that nobody has come to appreciate yet.”

Vanitas rolled his eyes so hard it was practically audible as Ventus looked at her in wonder and amazement, eyeballs so wide they could almost be gouged out, “You… that’s a really incredible way of looking at things. Though, I don’t think you could say that after looking at Vanitas’ art.”

It took another chuckle Ventus and a small gasp from Naminé to realise he was being insulted and he elbowed the blond boy in irritation, “What, you wanna go? You think yours is better than mine, is that it?”

Ventus must definitely have been on some sort of confidence drugs because he sent Vanitas a smirk that he didn’t really know how to handle; he’d never seen it on his best friend’s face before. The raven just mutedly spluttered and began to grind up his tongue; wishing it was chewing gum.

The three spent the remainder of the day together, but Ventus never managed to find the right situation to ask to peek into Naminé’s sketchbook.

Vanitas reluctantly trailed behind the pair all day, though Ventus tried to include him on their very one-sided conversations as Naminé didn’t really talk all that much and once he got going; Ventus just _loved_ to.

It had gotten to the point that Ventus had begun to ramble on about something stupid and irrelevant called the ‘Magna Carta’ that Vanitas’ patience began to wane, and a quick look over to the blonde artist had her showing the signs of entering a mild discomfort.

“Ventus,” Vanitas rubbed his hand down his face in exasperation, “Please stop.” He looked over at the clock to gauge the time, wishing their Science lesson would pick up the pace so the day would end and they could go home.

The blond boy’s smile was a little strained as he leaned back, apologising to Naminé and burying his head in his work, which Naminé had completed a while ago and Vanitas hadn’t even touched. He didn’t even know what they were learning about.

As they were again dismissed, Ventus suggested Naminé walk back with the pair- but she politely declined and smiled as she left them, drifting over to a man with very pink hair who was wearing a high school uniform.

Since high school wouldn’t let out until after theirs did, Vanitas surmised that he had skipped… or left. He wished _he_ could leave school, but it was locked up tighter that an army fortress. Plus his father would surely hear about it if he didn’t attend.

“She was really nice,” Ventus pondered as they walked together down the street, and the raven felt a surge of jealousy; he always did whenever Ventus made new friends.

“She didn’t really say very much, enough to give you that impression,” Vanitas uttered rather caustically, “Though you didn’t really give her much of a chance because you wouldn’t shut up about the God damn _Industrial Revolution.”_

Ventus looked away, “I… was only talking so much to make her feel comfortable. She seemed rather shy; I didn’t think she would want to talk that much.”

He looked over at Vanitas, “Did I… talk _too_ much?”

Vanitas could see the worry that was woven among the ocean blue that decorated his eyes, but the exasperation of the day was still wearing as heavy on him as the backpack on his bag, “Yes.”

He immediately felt guilty afterwards, and Ventus winced; the energy from before looked like it was being drained from him and his hands flew back up to his mouth in his familiar habit of chewing his nails.

The two just walked on in an insulated silence, which must have started boiling the blond from the inside, because as they passed by a park, he blurted out, “Do you…wanna go here for a bit? It’s still going to be light out after school for a few weeks so we might as well make the most of it.”

Surprisingly, both to Ventus and to himself, he turned around and nodded, pushing the gate open and all but throwing his heavy bag down onto a bench and rolling back his shoulders amidst the pain.

Ventus, like a little monkey jumped onto the climbing frame and hung from the long bar, giggling at his friend as he swung his legs around. Vanitas just meandered over to him and grinned wickedly, wrapping his arms around the boy’s legs so he couldn’t struggle, and pulled at him gently. He knew the blond was extraordinarily stubborn- and would hang on to it as long as he could.

Vanitas felt his heart float lighter at Ventus’ enjoyment and pulled harder until his friend’s arms gave out and they landed up a heap, laughing all the while. Vanitas loved these moments, and wished they could share them forever.

Unfortunately, someone powerful and cruel decided to spite him for his earlier grouchiness, and a shadow loomed over the pair like a menacing bear poised over prey. Golden eyes flew up to see two figures towering over them, a female with a perpetually bored look on her face and a slightly older male with a smirk on his lips.

“It’s two little kids from the primary school,” The girl said, brushing a hand through her blond hair, “They’re all tangled up; look at that.”

The male leaned down to Ventus, who was on top of Vanitas and grinned, “What’re you two doing here by yourselves?”

Vanitas could feel Ventus wither on top of him, and he glared at them with the intensity of a thousand suns. It was nowhere near close to anything Ventus’ joy showered him with, but when turned into a red heat he’d learned it could be quite menacing.

Apparently, not when he was stuck underneath two much taller and stronger teenagers in a rather feeble looking position. He hated looking weak but worried too much for Ventus to push him off of him.

Before he could move, the male’s eyes narrowed, “This one’s got a face on him. What would you do if I…” He grabbed Ventus by the collar and effortlessly lifted him up, dangling him over Vanitas and his brown eyes bored into blue, “Hurt your friend?”

Vanitas’ brain short-circuited, and he hissed in pain as the girl kicked him in the side, “This is _our_ turf. You trespass, you get hurt.”

Vanitas pushed her hands away angrily and rolled to his feet, eyes in a heated glower as he watched Ventus struggle out of the corner of his eye. It just made him more furious and he flew at the girl with his fists raised, who just stepped out of the way.

Somehow, he ended up in the chest of another, and he stumbled back to see the pink haired man from earlier, looking down at him; amused.

“Well,” He hummed and grabbed Vanitas from both sides harshly, the grip stinging and the raven grit his teeth, refusing to submit. He realised he was outnumbered, and weaker than all of them. The man’s face didn’t smile, just an odd emotion span in his gaze, “It seems I've caught a little rat. That’s a shame. I _hate_ rodents.”

He squeezed harder and Vanitas grunted with pain, eyes squeezing shut. He saw Ventus’ scared face in the black, hearing his frightened and wheezy whimpers to go along with it.

Anger frothed up his veins like acid and he clenched his fists so hard that his nails dug into his palms, though he didn’t really feel it.

“Rough him up a bit Lauriam,” The girl taunted as she quipped Vanitas in the back of the head, and pulled his hair harshly, “Send him crying home to mummy and then he won’t come back.”

Vanitas suddenly found himself thrown to the ground- the wind was knocked out of him in one fell swoop, and he gasped from air as his chest was compressed; the man- Lauriam, was sitting on him. Vanitas tried to spit up at him but found he could barely breathe, and his mouth had gone very dry- likely the adrenaline.

“I will,” He said and reached into his trouser pocket. Vanitas’ entire body turned numb and eyes went wide with panic as the man produced a small pen-knife. He flicked it open and chuckled down at the struggling child beneath him; cold blue eyes swirling with mania and his lips curled into a sinister sneer, “Though bruises are so _ugly,_ you know? I’d much rather make him _bleed.”_

Like he’d done it before, he gripped Vanitas by the neck (which would definitely bruise later) and rolled up his sleeve. He raised his eyebrows at Vanitas who scowled at him heatedly, “Well,” He said, before rolling his sleeve up higher to his biceps. There, he elegantly pressed the blade onto his skin and sighed lightly when it sank through the barrier it posed. Slowly, he carved a pattern into the child’s skin, akin to that of a rose. It seemed he and Naminé shared a similar passion for artistry.

Vanitas refused to cry, to whimper, to scream. He was not weak, and he was _not_ submissive, especially to sick fucks like this guy. But the hand clamped around his neck and bottom seated snugly on his chest prevented him from doing much of anything.

His dark rage accumulated in his smaller figure and was seeping out of him in as a murky haze.

Ventus, who had stopped being shaken as the man who was holding him was distracted with watching his friend cut up Vanitas, screeched, “No!” and kicked the man in his nether regions, who doubled down and bent over. Ventus tried to wriggle free but the man must’ve excessively worked out and held him steadfast.

He then noticed the bright orange lanyard that Ventus always wore under his uniform, and threw his head back and laughed, “You _little shit._ You’re a fucking Ashton kid aren’t you?! What a waste of damn space you are. Damn we found a fucking firebrand and an Ashton kid? Today must be our lucky day.”

“A gorgeous firebrand,” Lauriam had cooed, and sliced another line deep into Vanitas cheek, then pulled at the wound so it bled quicker. Vanitas shook with fury and clamped his teeth together so hard he wouldn’t be surprised if his gums collapsed and bled from the pressure. “Though you’re a tough little nut, aren’t you? Why won’t you scream for me?”

“ _Fuck…you,”_ Vanitas groused and hacked his collected saliva into the pink-haired, probably a psychopath’s face, who screeched and flew off Vanitas, dropping his knife and rubbing at his face desperately.

Vanitas snatched up the knife, blood rushing to his head, the cuts and bruises and marks and welts marring his skin not enough to stop him from bolting over to Ventus and the man who was grinning at him.

He needed to save Ventus; they needed to get out of there. He needed to help his best friend because he couldn’t _stand_ it when he was hurt; it made him hurt too; so, so much.

In a flight of frenzy, Vanitas swiped the knife at the man restraining Ventus, and nicked him in the cheek. This time, he dropped Ventus and cradled his face in a howl of pain, but Vanitas wasn’t done. He wasn’t finished.

He was _livid;_ these people had hurt Ventus, and he needed to get rid of the pain he felt the only way he knew how: by driving the bloody knife into the face of the teen and pulling it out with vigour.

The man screamed vociferously and fell to his knees, blood now a river out of his hands that clasped his face, and the girl- who was unharmed from this, also screamed, “Oh my…oh my _God_ \- Braig!”

Without a second to breathe, Vanitas grabbed Ventus harshly and half-whispered, “Move- _move_! Ventus we need to go!” And the two turned to flee the park, Vanitas grabbing both their bags, his body aching and head spinning with unabated fury. 

The two thundered down the streets, adrenaline their mistress, and fear their bodyguard. Once they arrived on Ventus’ doorstep, they collapsed and heaved; heavy choking breaths.

Vanitas looked down at his hands, which were covered with blood. He had no doubt the rest of his body was covered with it too.

His body shook as all of the events caught up with him. Oh God, he hoped he hadn’t just killed that guy; he’d pretty much just stabbed him in the _face._

 _“Vanitas,”_ Ventus blubbered and gripped his friend, a despair Vanitas hoped he would never see on the blond was exhibited in every fine detail of his face, and it made Vanitas feel sick to the stomach.

“Vanitas Vanitas Vanitas…” Ventus chanted almost brokenly and kept crying while shaking his friend recklessly, even though his body was dripping with blood, “Vanitas oh my God…oh my God oh my God what the hell, what the _hell,_ are you okay? How are you still standing? Holy shhh-sugar I need to get you to the hospital or something oh my God oh my _God.”_

Sorrow controlling his movements, he pried Ventus’ hand off of him and held them tightly, which was a comfort in of itself. Then he registered the rest of what he had said, “No…no not the hospital. Just some plasters will be fine to stop the bleeding.”

Ventus looked incredulous, but his eyes looked so despondent that Vanitas wanted to dry heave; or throw up- that was also a possibility.

He grabbed Vanitas by the face, making sure to avoid the slashes, “Are you… are you _fucking crazy?!_ Van-Vanitas you’ve…you’ve you’ve been all cut up like a turkey on Christmas day! That guy sat on you and _strangled_ you- aren’t you in any pain at all?”

Vanitas blanched, Ventus _never_ swore. He must really be mad with him. He closed his eyes and lowered his head, hearing blood drip onto the stone tiles of the porch.

He did feel pain, mostly the carving on his arm and the burning in his throat and the bruise likely forming on his back. He’d probably damaged a kidney with how hard he’d been slammed.

“No,” He lied and jostled Ventus out of his tear-stained trance, “But I will be if I lose too much blood- so I'm going to need _plasters._ And maybe a bandage for this arm.” He tried to point at him with it to prove a point, but he found he couldn’t move it. He was also feeling a little dizzy; but refused to sway and clenched his fists again to force his eyes open.

“What?! Vanitas, he cut you like six or seven times- bandages don’t just solve everything like that, what if you get infected-! _Oh my_ _GOD,_ Jesus fuck- what if there had been dried blood on his knife which had HIV oh my God Vanitas I can’t, I _can’t_ we need to go to the hospital- I can’t… I can’t breathe…”

Ventus staggered in front of him, and Vanitas’ adrenaline spiked so high it broke the chart and ascended into orbit. He sat Ventus down on the ground as he struggled to breathe, but he suddenly began to hyperventilate really quickly.

Vanitas was fiercely holding back tears of his own (he wasn’t allowed to cry) and he reached out and cupped his friend’s face with his hands, in the place of a paper bag. His voice wobbled, “It’s okay. Listen to me. I'm right here. Look at me Ventus, Ven- I'm here. It’s gonna be fine, I’m gonna be fine.”

Ventus’ breathing became raspy and he heard a door open from somewhere on his left; he definitely couldn’t let other people see this- he needed to get them inside.

He rooted around through Ventus’ bag and fiddled with the lock before escorting his panicking friend inside and settling him on the sofa.

Desperately, he sprinted to the kitchen to fill up a glass of water, grabbing a blanket on his way back. After a sip, Ventus finally began to calm down, allowing Vanitas to tuck the blanket over him.

He crawled onto the sofa next to him and leaned into him gently, clutching his hand like it was a life-line keeping him tethered to this reality, but gently stroking him with his thumb in reassurance.

Ventus meant everything to Vanitas, _everything._ Seeing his everything, his light like this made every cell in his body vibrate with antipathy and grief. It was his fault Ventus had a panic attack. Why did he have to be the worst person that ever existed?

Ten or so minutes later, Ventus turned and looked at Vanitas- who looked like his body was being burned from the inside. The adrenaline had worn off and everything must’ve been hitting him at once, cuts and bruises and the like.

His face was in a trembling grimace, but he attempted to hide under his blood soaked sleeve so Ventus couldn’t see. He wasn’t making any noises either, making Ventus wonder bitterly how much he must be keeping inside for him.

Determined, even though all his muscles screamed at him and chest felt like it was being squeezed in a vice, Ventus got up on shaky legs and followed the trail of blood into the kitchen- rooting round under the kitchen sink to find their first aid kit. He looked at the wall and saw it was twenty to four, meaning everyone would be back in around twenty or thirty minutes if he was lucky.

Back into the lounge, he opened the red box and ripped open a few disinfectant wipes and patted his friend gently on the shoulder, “Vanitas? I… I need to put those… pl-plasters on now. Could you plea-please take off your jumpe-jumper?”

Vanitas’ molten gold eyes peeked open and Ventus’ heart shrivelled up even more than it already had at the agony that he found swimming in them. When Vanitas didn’t move, Ventus pulled the jumper over his head anyway- and began wiping the wounds that had begun to coagulate and remove any dirt or dust that might cause infection.

If Vanitas had contracted any illnesses via blood transfer, Ventus would never forgive himself; he would personally give Vanitas all the blood in his body just so he could be okay again. The thought was a new one to Ventus, but as he checked over the raven who was quivering at every stinging dab but not making any noise, he found it wasn’t exactly a surprise.

Vanitas, even with his harsh words at times or mean spirited comments or dry humour, was the strongest, most amazing person Ventus had met. It was Ventus’ dream to be like him one day, but he feared that would never come.

Vanitas only needed five plasters; one shallow and one deep-ish cut on his face were small in length and easily covered, and his right arm had two cuts and his right another. But there was a disgusting, rose shaped mark on his upper bicep that was very deep and needed a gauze and bandage to stop the bleeding.

Ventus noticed the blood had soaked a little into the sofa and had to use the toilet bleach to get it out, as well as clean it up off the floor and out of the hallway. He felt like he was cleaning up a crime.

When he was done, he gave Vanitas one of his school jumpers to replace his bloodied one and with it on, apart from the purpling beginning to sprout on his neck that could be somewhat covered with his shirt collar, and a few plasters- Vanitas looked mostly okay.

The two cuddled up together on the sofa and Ventus silently wept, mumbling apologies over and over again, while Vanitas reassured him. This day had scarred their lives forever; an event that the two would never forget for as long as they lived; but would eventually be overshadowed by a darker and more gruesome incident.

* * *

_present_

Vanitas did _not_ want to go to prom. Prom…or the ball as Eraqus was calling it, was a dumb American tradition that was an excuse for everyone to dress up and cry over the people they’re going to miss now that school was finally ending. And to get blackout drunk and end up naked in some random front garden wallowing in your own vomit and urine. Or at least, that was Xehanort’s definition of it.

Perhaps he should have formed his own opinion instead of listening to that miserable old codger recite lines he’d heard on the television, but the fact still stood that Vanitas was a bit of a stick in the mud and it wasn’t really his thing.

 _His_ feelings though, didn’t really matter in the long run because the second Ventus had gotten excited about the prospect of _‘dressing up all fancy’,_ he’d immediately shot down all his reservations. The second the word prom had started circulating around their classes his face had lit up brighter than the fucking sun and it made Vanitas want to bow down before his glory.

Ventus had been so excited to go to prom in fact, that he wanted to go out shopping for suits _today,_ which for reference was four months before the actual date and a very large time gap for these suits to be grown out of.

Yet the ball of sunshine would not be dissuaded- and thus poor Eraqus was dragged out on an excursion to a very fancy tailor shop that made Vanitas feel ill just by being in the neighbourhood.

“Ventus,” He had hissed as he pulled his best friend to one side, into Eraqus’ deaf ear, “Why the fuck are we _here?_ I don’t think I could afford a suit- a fucking _bowtie_ from here even if I sold my whole house.”

Ventus looked at the raven, amused, “Don’t worry about it. Eraqus said he’d buy you a suit too, and if you’re really het up about it that he’d get your dad to pay him back later.”

Vanitas felt a cool breeze and clicked his tongue, eyes drawing into a glare, “No. Way. I'm not receiving charity from _him_ even if _you_ fucking paid me.”

Predictably, Ventus’ lip wobbled into a pout and Vanitas felt weak in the knees.

“Why’d you even come today then? If you weren’t gonna get anything?”

“Ever heard of window shopping?” Vanitas gibed and shook his head with a small smile, “Plus I had nothing better to do, you know this. And I like spending time with you.”

Ventus squealed in a way that set Vanitas’ brain on fire, and hugged him tightly, wrapping his arms around Vanitas’ chest in a way that shouldn’t have restricted his breathing yet still rendered him breathless.

Eraqus gave them a knowing smile as he opened the door for them, and Vanitas was too happy to glare at him, though his bliss didn’t last long as the pungent scent of _rich_ hit his nose and he shuddered.

Sweeping a glance around the store revealed expensive materials that seemed like they would decorate the behind of a businessman or company president, and his small lunch of chocolate coated pretzels began to churn in his stomach.

Noticing what equated to a magnitude seven tremor in his best friend, Ventus unlatched himself and grabbed Vanitas’ hand tightly, sending an electrical surge through his skin strong enough to knock out nine polar bears. He overheated a little but he’s a strong boy, he hung on.

A man in a checkered suit that just screamed ‘ _ask me how much my car costs’_ strode up the them with all the regality of half the royal family and shepherded the two into a showroom.

Plastered all over the walls were what Vanitas assumed to be famous celebrities and supermodels wearing the store’s quality designs, and mannequins modelling said masterpieces. They could _all_ be his if he took out a loan greater than the sum his organs would sell for on the black market. He grimaced.

They were each given a stylist; the word made Vanitas’ head spin, who ushered them into a changing room. The woman, who was unable to keep a professional face as she winced at Vanitas’ shabby clothing, ordered a t-pose and snaked a measuring tape around him to garner his sizes before trotting out on her heels. He noticed the actual heel of the shoes was a stylised musical note that probably had a name, since he couldn’t not notice when it was digging into his foot.

She came back with a grand total of _fourteen_ different suits of all different styles and colours- different types of ties like bowties and regular ones. Thank God Vanitas was forced to learn a regular tie for his high-school uniform or he would have looked like a total idiot if he died because he hung himself by wrapping it around his neck.

After he’d suited up in the richly textile suit that consisted of a shirt and a waistcoat and a jacket and trousers and a tie- and this weird thing you put in the jacket, and more- he turned around and studied himself in the mirror.

He looked… _good._ Apart from his hair looking like he’d barely survived a category four hurricane- which it always did, he genuinely looked decent. Which was saying something because Vanitas utterly _despised_ how he looked; and Ventus was a liar when he said he looked nice and was just trying to make him feel good.

He sighed and exited the room so the stylist woman could see him, when he heard a noise somewhat akin to a mouse being squeezed for dear life and turned to see what it was because it sounded so funny.

Big mistake.

He barely registered that Ventus had been the one to make said noise because _holy shit, Ventus._ Ventus was also donned in a suit, this one being a rich burgundy compared to his dark navy. The amazing piece of crimson couture was perfectly designed to accentuate every single curve of Ventus’ figure and complimented him in just the _best_ way by flaying out over his chest.

Ventus himself was shaking a little, his mouth slightly open and a _very_ obvious blush decorating his beautiful face. His eyes, glistened in their sapphire glory as they raked up and down Vanitas carefully, blowing wider each second. His hair even looked nicer- perhaps the lighting as it looked so soft and fluffy that Vanitas just wanted to bury his hands in it- or at least stroke it a little.

Vanitas drank up the sight and immediately after felt intoxicated like he’d been force-fed a great amount of alcohol. His throat was instantly dry, and his mouth had morphed into sandpaper that his tongue melded into. His blood began its holy pilgrimage down south, but also to the rest of his body making him feel warm and dizzy. He blinked a few seconds to make sure he was still awake within the room- and not dreaming the best dream of his life.

Vanitas was completely _floored._ It was like he’d died and gone to heaven; the image of Ventus- lets face it, _fucking gorgeous Ventus_ permanently branded itself into his brain and no matter where he looked all he could see was Ventus’ exquisite figure with his embarrassed face and that _damned suit._

 _Every. Single. Circumstance_ be damned because Vanitas just wanted to stare at Ventus until he died.

The giggling must’ve been going on for quite a while before he heard it, and he then noticed that Ventus wasn’t in his field of vision anymore and he’d been staring at an after memory. Ventus was hiding behind the deep crimson curtain, his face rivalling its excellent colour. Eraqus, the miserable old geezer was guffawing to himself with the manager who didn’t seem even a little amused.

Since neither of the two boys even had the brain capacity to perform the speaking function anymore, it was Eraqus that walked over and dragged Ventus away from his refuge.

Vanitas couldn’t look away. The blond looked flushed and sweaty, which sent his already hyperactive hormones into overdrive and there were suddenly two Ventus’ nervously biting their nails in front of him as he staggered backwards into a seat. He hadn’t spared a moment to think about how he himself must have come across to the others. He might have to murder Eraqus. Ventus would understand.

More than anything though, Vanitas wanted to just curl up into a ball and ram his head repeatedly against the wall.

“Well!” The amusement in Eraqus’ voice was not lost on Vanitas, but he was still to dazed to glare, “I’m sure wearing suits is a new experience for the both of you, but we have to know- do they fit? Are they comfortable?”

Since he could still make no sound, he just nodded limply. Ventus must have regained bodily control as he mumbled softly, “Yeah it fits really well. Though I'm not sure on the colour though…”

Eraqus smiled and shirked Ventus’ suit jacket, “Maybe so. Were there any other colours in there that you liked?”

Ventus barely missed a beat, “That one,” He said, and it took a good three seconds before he realised he was the one being referred to.

“You like the navy?” The female stylist chuckled and went inside Ventus’ changing room to produce a similar looking dress-suit but just a deeper colour, “We have it in the same style, lucky you.”

“Yes thanks- I mean please. Thank you,” Ventus burned in shame but Vanitas just kept getting lighter. Then he was suddenly smacked down and grounded as Eraqus turned to him.

“And you? Vanitas?”

Vanitas wanted to spit some vulgar insult at him; shatter his fractured pride and make him shrivel in embarrassment- but he couldn’t find the words. It was hard being cruel when you were just so _happy._ “Fits fine. Prefer the red though.”

Trying on suits didn’t take much longer after that. The two were ushered back into their clothing and the suits were bagged up in posh looking totes.

Vanitas had recovered- mostly, but he still saw Ventus’ cute figure whenever he closed his eyes. He hoped he’d never be able to unsee it.

The two couldn’t speak a word to each other as they left the showroom, both enveloped in their own embarrassment. They plodded up to the checkout in pure teenage-boy fashion and found it difficult to look at each other.

Their awkwardness was only broken by Eraqus’ conversation with the manager, who still looked down on them snootily. The total bill came up to £123.93 and Ventus suddenly remembered why he was so against getting a suit in the first place.

 _“120 quid?”_ He seethed and clenched his fists, “Eraqus must be fucking _insane_ if he thinks he paying that much for me.”

Ventus, whilst still a little red, looked up- confused, “That’s for the both of us. And what do you mean ‘that much’- that’s an incredibly good price.”

“It’s a fucking bullshit price is what it is,” Vanitas fumed as they exited the building, “I don’t wanna think about how much that was that I'm gonna have to give that old man back.”

“He doesn’t want it back Vanitas,” Ventus complained and cracked his fingers, wincing at the fissures on his skin where his nails hadn’t been enough, “We went to the cheapest store we could find that was still good quality and not Primark. I said to Eraqus you wouldn’t even go in otherwise.”

“Cheapest?” Vanitas bickered moodily, “That place was decked out like fucking Buckingham Palace. The manager kept looking at me like I was a street rat come to give him the _plague.”_

Ventus folded his arms and tilted his head from side to side, “Really? To me it was a totally normal clothes shop. Kind of like a Topman or a Next.”

“Yeah,” The raven muttered, “Expensive as hell shops. Who the fuck spends 60 quid on clothes- it’s a rip off. 60 quid for a whole suit, what the hell…”

Ventus raised his eyebrows but didn’t comment and then jerked a little like he was suddenly shocked with static. When Vanitas looked over at him, he saw the nervousness was back full force.

“So… um… Vanitas… You er- you looked really good in that suit earlier.”

Vanitas’ whole body felt warm again, but didn’t report a complete system failure like last time, “Thanks. You… looked really good too.”

Vanitas had _wanted_ to say 'you looked so fucking beautiful earlier I thought I was fucking dying', but he managed what he could.

Though really, all words likely would’ve had a similar effect, as Ventus still outshone every star in the universe with his bright and stunning grin that could paralyse Vanitas on impact. Ventus launched himself onto Vanitas and hugged him tightly. He wrapped his arms around his neck and buried his face into Vanitas’ collar, breathing heavily.

Vanitas, who had been rising up on the verge of a mental breakdown- just awkwardly shifted forward and Ventus swayed dreamily off of him.

Vanitas wished he’d allowed himself this wonderful peace of mind earlier in life. He’s sure he would have been a lot happier, overall.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> thank you soooo much for finishing that- honestly it was a little tough rereading it since the two parts are so tonally different. its like tonal-whiplash: the fic that gives you suffering and fluff and very little in between.
> 
> was it too much though? if you left some feedback it would mean the literal world to me! thank you~


	5. crush; clementine

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> the fifth part
> 
> \-- there's this kid called Ephemer that Ventus sits next to in business. Vanitas doesn't like him
> 
> \-- of which occurs a very big change in Ventus' life that flips his whole world upside down

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> good day my fellow kh fans, how've you all been? hope you're all okay and good :D  
> i can't believe it but my God damn uni essay is finally complete. hopefully i can focus on this lovely piece of work a little more now i have the time, yay <3  
> with regards the this chapter, i'd say it has a few shocks in it, i guess? as in a few 'huh i didnt see that coming' moments. hopefully. or maybe i'm just way in over my head. it can get a little heavy, but so does everything i fucking write.  
> i try okay. please enjoy~!

_**CHAPTER FIVE** _

crush; clementine

_present_

“Business was the worst decision I ever made,” Ventus bemoaned. He was slouched backwards over a black bar stool and spinning around wildly, propelling himself by skivvying around on the floor. His new white shoes squeaked loudly against the linen of the dance studio making Vanitas wince.

Shuffling choreography routine papers around into an undanceable disorder, the raven swung his legs back and forth as he perched on top of the teacher’s table, watching Ventus with mild interest. Even though the blond _said_ he was there to support Kairi and watch her dance recital for the upcoming winter show, he was evidently _not_ watching it and trying was to make sense of his business homework. He was mostly just shaking the crumpled piece of paper incredulously above his head as he spun himself dizzy.

“It was,” Vanitas affirmed, and received a half-hearted glare and tired scoff from the blond. Vanitas just leaned over his crumpled form with a cynical smile, “Is it too late to switch? What would you even swap to?”

Ventus’ arms drooped, and he flopped over, “There’s nothing to switch to- it’s an extra thing I'm doing. Do you not remember? Last year? They were all like, if you want to take business at GCSE you need to take these extra classes during year nine so you can understand it.”

Snorting, Vanitas ripped the paper from his best friends’ loose grasp and studied it, disinterested. “Why would you think I paid any attention to what they were telling me.”

“Silly me,” Ventus groused and snatched it back, only to press it to his face like doing so would somehow force the words into his brain, “Why would I think you care about your education at all. Though I’d have thought you might’ve liked Business.”

“Why? You know I don’t have dreams of my own. Not like you do.”

Vanitas wasn’t concerned by his own lack of a passion for anything, though it bothered Ventus considerably. Vanitas’ current mission in life was to escape school. Ventus didn’t like that because it wouldn’t leave him with anything beyond education.

“I know,” Ventus said a little sadly and peeked over the side of the paper. In contrast to Vanitas; Ventus seemingly had it all figured out. Due to his passion for History- and strange addiction to rolling around in mud, Ventus had decided he’d wanted to become a palaeontologist. That word, apparently, meant a person who dug up old bones and studied them and the history of their origins. Vanitas was reminded back to the last- and only time he’d ever seen dinosaur bones and shivered.

On one hand, Vanitas was _happy_ for Ventus; he would always be supportive of whatever he chose to do, because he deserved to be happy and do what he loved. On the other he would shudder just imagining how completely dull that would be and wondered how even Ventus with his odd little mind could enjoy something so… mundane.

“Well you have to pick _something_ for next year,” Ventus continued, mouth muffled like he was trying to eat the paper, “Four things, actually- though no matter what you have to do English…Science and- ugh Maths.”

Vanitas reclined uncomfortably on the desk, absentmindedly kicking off the papers that he’d taken so much time to shuffle, “What if I just…didn’t pick anything? How much d’you wanna bet they just forget about me, or just overlook me ‘cause I’m the fuckin’ problem child and then I won’t _have_ to do anything.”

“Hmmm, no I don’t think even _they_ would do that,” Ventus thought about it for a minute and muffled a sigh with half chewed homework, gesturing toward the heavens as ‘they’ meaning ‘the people in charge’, “They’d probably just pick something for you, like, er, what you got highest grades in or something. Why don’t you just choose something lik- _Ephemer!”_

The blond tumbled off of the seat with a surprised yelp and Vanitas’ head twitched up in concern. The blond was being assisted up by another boy Vanitas hadn’t seen before- or perhaps they were someone he was too lazy to remember. His shiny silver hair painfully reminded him of a more curly, glitzy version of Riku’s. When he stood up his eyes were blue but compared to Ventus’ glistening sapphires were a gross murky sea. He wore a red ascot around his neck that definitely wasn’t allowed since it obstructed his tie.

Vanitas frowned.

“Whoa Ventus- are you okay? You look… dead,” This Ephemer said alarmed, and released Ventus back onto the seat. Ventus sat ramrod straight and projected one of his 10 kilowatt smiles at him and Vanitas was instantly very irritated at the mystery man.

“Yeah yeah I'm greaa… no. No, no I am _dead_ and this Business homework was my executioner,” Ventus winced as he stared back down to his paper, before offering it out to the boy, “Please please _please_ can you help me I have no idea what I'm doing.”

Ephemer took it from Ventus gently and scanned it quickly, then smiled, “It’s…” He laughed a little, and Vanitas- who already had negative preconceptions about this guy, was sure it was condescending. “It’s our business homework. That’s due in for next lesson in… thirty five minutes. What- did you forget about this and just leave it to the last minute?”

“Maaaaaybe,” Ventus simpered and shrank beneath his collar. Ephemer just laughed and pulled up the other bar stool that Vanitas had once been sitting on before laziness had wormed its evil way to him. Ventus cheered happily and swirled around so they could work together on the portion of the desk that Vanitas’ feet were not currently occupying.

After rooting around in his pencil case, Ephemer twizzled his pen in a very showy-offy way that had Ventus giggling before asking, “Oh, Ventus- why are you in here anyway? I didn’t know you were into dance.”

“Please, call me Ven,” The blond grinned, and Ephemer just smirked back. “I’m here to watch Kairi, and I just kinda dragged Vanitas here. What about you?”

“Do you know Skuld? She’s there- the one with black hair next to Kairi-yeah her. I've known her for _ages_ , she asked me to watch her today too,” Ephemer replied and scribbled onto Ventus’ paper, to which he responded with a very loud ‘ _ooohhhhhhh’._

Watching their conversation like an irate hawk, Vanitas could feel his resentment for Ephemer rising- like he was filling up with water, though he wasn’t 100% sure of the source of his sudden anguish. He felt that if he watched them all gooey and gross any longer he was going to be squeezed on the inside and popped like a balloon.

Crossly he vaulted off of the desk and distracted himself with the recital, hoping the calming piano and violin duet that was droning on for the fifth time from the speakers would be enough to abate him.

He turned back one song later to find them talking about something completely different, work forgotten. Bitterly, Vanitas’ rationale was that Ventus seemed to really like this Ephemer guy. He hoped it was only temporary.

* * *

Ephemer as it turns out, was _not_ only temporary, and Ventus had found it appropriate to try and squeeze the silver haired menace into their lives in any way he could.

Ventus' new friend had his _own_ life, thankfully and didn't spend a whole lot of time with them as Ventus would have liked. Ephemer was a busybody, having a legion of various commitments from the debate team, to being dragged home by his rich-ass father to be trained in how to take over the family business.

Furthermore, Ephemer wasn't fond of Naminé either, apparently believing the witchy rumours that surrounded her. Ever since Vanitas and Ventus made up from their little spat en lieu of Naminé's intervention, they'd begun to hang around with her a little more; Ventus being friends with her anyway, and Vanitas being able to tolerate her existence (though mostly because she helped him get his best friend back and he hated owing people). Vanitas found it hard to believe that Ventus just ignored Ephemer's dislike of his friend. So at least their morning breaks were safe, as the pair spent time with her between classes. 

She was off school this week though with some bug that'd been going around, which left them all eating lunch in the canteen with Ephemer rather than the design department. Much to Vanitas' own chagrin. 

Ephemer's voice, as Vanitas begrudgingly discovered was soft and quiet when not trying to project over a dance rehearsal, and thus very easy to block out with loud rock music through his cheap earphones.

If there was one reason Vanitas could give for why he loved rock music so much, it’d be that it was distracting. It pulled him into his own little world that was cut off from whatever was loud and booming on the outside. It helped him forget, even for just a little while.

Music however, blocked out Ventus’ voice, and although rock music placed second in his favourite sounds, Ventus’ happy-go lucky voice would always win that trophy. The lurid mixture of Ventus’ and _Ephemer’s_ … and also Sora’s that no matter what he could always hear above everybody else’s, was just too much for him to handle. Vanitas just couldn’t stand loud noises, especially voices.

Unfortunately, this meant that more recently he had been missing the things that Ventus had been chattering to him about and it was really starting to catch up with him.

“Wait… you’re going _where?!”_

“Football practice!” His ball of sunshine had beamed down on him and rolled the offending black and white sphere under his foot skillessly, looking very much like it was going to skip out from under his feet and trip him.

Vanitas was mixed between exasperation, confusion and scepticism, “ _When_ , and _how_ , and _why,_ and _where-”_

“Okay- so technically I'm not on the team. Yet-!” He raised a finger to Vanitas as he opened his mouth to protest, “Buuuuuut, I want to be. Soooo, Sora is taking me out on the 4G today to, y’know, teach me how to play and stuffs. ‘Cause he’s the captain.”

“I'm sorry,” Vanitas had passed all emotions and gone straight into completely dumbfounded territory, “ _Why_ are you suddenly interested in playing fucking football? I thought you had fencing as your sport- what the hell brought this on?”

Whatever answer Vanitas thought it had been, it definitely hadn’t been that. Ventus blushed a deep red and averted his eyes a little, nibbling his lip.

Now, Vanitas wasn’t stupid. He and Ventus may have been best friends- but he’d have to be blind not to see that Ventus was attractive- because he had eyes. So if Ventus- to Vanitas was considered attractive _normally_ , then Ventus blushing and all nervous like that was considered _very attractive._

Vanitas didn’t quite know how to handle that and just kinda spluttered wordlessly, his train of thought driving around in circles and heart suddenly beating loudly in his ears.

“Pr-promise you won’t tell anyone?” Ventus stammered nervously, and Vanitas could only nod in response, swallowing, “It’s ummm… I want to look cool.”

Vanitas just blinked, “You want… to look cool…? Wh… _why_?”

“I want to look cool because I fancy Ephemer!” Ventus babbled almost excitedly, then clasped his hands in front of his mouth like he’d announced it to the whole world. He’d actually spoken rather garbled and quietly, yet the words still screamed around Vanitas’ skull like they’d gotten stuck somewhere in his phonological loop. So they kept replaying over and over and over.

Ventus… had a crush on Ephemer? The weird rich kid he sat opposite in business that never shut up about politics? The one whom he’d been sharing his revolting cheese sandwiches with since Vanitas refused to touch them? The one he’d been giggling with while watching things on his phone at break times? The one he’d been secretly glancing at every so often and even _invited_ him to his home last week and walked home with him and Vanitas?

Yeah actually. That made a lot of sense.

Ventus was still gushing.

“-nd I know it’s kinda petty but like apparently he really likes football and comes and watches _every_ game since his friend Brain is like on the team too- and since we’re good friends maybe he’ll look at me a little and- sorry I'm rambling aren’t I?”

Vanitas had barely noticed his words- he’d been too busy stewing in emotions he didn’t truly understand, registering perhaps… confusion, happiness, maybe sadness… and guilt? Above all he felt a little sick.

Surprisingly, Ventus- who was still smiling a little, looked almost cocky, “Oh… but don’t think I’m like, going to ignore you ‘cause I like him or anything- you’re still my best friend Vanitas. You can of course like, watch and stuff if you er, want to that is.”

Vanitas just glared at him, but didn’t respond too spitefully, “I'm not gonna watch football just ‘cause you’re there, idiot. It’s so incredibly boring I doubt it’d make much difference to me.”

His voice shook a little, and he folded his arms in his bid to make his point more convincing.

Surprisingly, he hadn’t overreacted. Vanitas wanted Ventus to be happy. Ventus seemed happy when he was with Ephemer- so who be he to stop him?

His heart though, was not very happy about it. He hoped it hadn’t shown on his smile as they parted for the day.

* * *

Ventus made the team. Which was unsurprising really since he was rather fit from all his other sporting endeavours; his dedicated sport being fencing, which he enjoyed immensely and trained diligently for twice a week. Add on _top_ of that one gruelling night of football training and a league match every other week, Ventus had far too much shimmying around his plate and was almost always exhausted out of his mind.

One particular day it had been so bad that Ventus had _fallen asleep_ in a History lesson- which to many was a sign that something was very wrong. Vanitas was torn- on one hand he knew that Ventus was really happy in his pursuit for the wavy-haired pompous idiot’s affections, but he could also see that it was seriously affecting his best friend’s mental state.

He wanted to do something, with _all of his heart,_ but he knew Ventus too well and knew that he’d likely react pretty badly to being told to take a breather. The blond, whilst fiercely loyal to his absolute honesty in everything, was a master in playing innocent and denial, refusing to accept the plainest of facts due to his determination to succeed. And Vanitas loved that about him. Just not when it hurt him like this.

It got to the point where Sora, who solely reserved the rights to being the most oblivious person on the planet, came and spoke to Vanitas about it. The captain had stomped up to him in a contrived cross manner and confronted him just before practice.

“Ventus is great at football,” He’d started, somehow devoid of the underlying nervousness that Vanitas always sensed in people who unwittingly spoke with him. Sora _really_ must be that stupid.

“But all of his extra work and exercise is reaaaaaally unhealthy for him.” Sora said, and reclined his hands behind his head in a way Ventus often did when he was hit with a rare shot of confidence.

Vanitas, as customary with everyone he interacted with- shot Sora an icy glare, which he was completely unaffected by. Sora still barrelled on, “I’m not asking you to like, get him to leave the team or anything, but like, I dunno- just talk to him? He’ll listen to you since the two of you have been bo- _best_ friends since forever!”

If looks could kill Sora would be a writhing mass of flames on the floor, “ _What_ were you going to say you _little shit-”_

“Gottagotopracticebye!” Sora hurried off before Vanitas could strangle him to death, “Oh and…you should glare less. You kinda look like Riku when he’s constipated.”

Vanitas did not scream, because that would have been undignified. He also didn’t break the hanging basket that was behind the sports shed because then he would have had to pay for its replacement.

Still frothing in his own bitterness, Vanitas hid in the stands behind the pitch spectator’s area, hoping to blow off some steam alone before he went back up to watch Ventus- to make sure the idiot didn’t pass out and make a fool of himself whilst training. This, was a terrible idea since there was already someone loitering there, who at the time was ranked pretty high on Vanitas’ shit list.

Riku was leaning against the tented stands, eyes closed and mouth moving rapidly despite no words escaping them. He actually looked fairly- dare he say, nervous about something because he was tapping his foot in a restless and very un-Riku-like manner.

Vanitas however, was kind of an asshole and definitely not in the mood for Riku or his precious feelings, “You look like you just fucking shit your pants,” He snidely said.

Riku’s eyes opened widely and flicked up at Vanitas, scowling when he saw him. He groaned and rubbed his hand down his face, “Fuck _off_ Vanitas- _why_ are you even here? Don’t you have year sevens to bully or something?”

Vanitas did _not_ bully year sevens. To him, words had no weight and could be tossed back and forth like vulgar tennis balls. That wasn’t _bullying_. He’d assumed Riku agreed with him.

“I’m sure you’d just _love_ to join me, wouldn’t you? Is that what you do for fun, you beat the shit out of defenceless kids who’re too scared to fight back?”

The words tasted wrong in Vanitas’ mouth, and there was a sickly feeling in his chest at the way Riku looked at him. Surprisingly, the pair didn’t duel with scathing remarks like they usually did and just glowered at each other like they could ignite the other with the heat in their eyes.

Riku must’ve seriously been dealing with something because he relented and turned away- something that didn’t happen often at all. He wearily brushed a hand through his wiry, yet still pretty straight locks and stormed away from Vanitas to fall into a seat beyond the bandstand. Vanitas didn’t say anything and nor did be follow. He just closed his golden eyes and counted to ten the way Ventus always told him to.

An hour later that Vanitas had spent pointedly avoiding Riku, Ephemer and everyone else that wanted to observe the training, the players began to hustle together as training began winding down. Ventus came out completely bushed and sweating all over- yet a huge smile was directed toward Ephemer who was waving with a taut grin as he walked over. Vanitas’ jealously began to boil over even though he didn’t know where the gas that was heating the pot was coming from.

The rays of sunlight that were teeming from Ventus did not dim, even when Ephemer stopped halfway to him to talk with Brain.

Vanitas did not go over to the untamed gaggle of sweaty people. He watched wordlessly from afar.

As the players began to stagger towards the changing rooms with Sora leading the pride, sporting a cheesy grin that looked like a cheap knock-off version of Ventus’, Riku began to fast-walk toward them in a very awkward way. Sora, elated that Riku was there for whatever reason, launched himself at his best friend and began to badger him for the minutiae of his reasons for being there. Riku stayed silent, a conflicted smile wavering on his face.

Then he came right out and said it.

“Sora, will you please be my boyfriend?”

It was like everyone had heard a gunshot. A hushing silence dominated as Riku shifted nervously and Sora stared at him, mouth agape and eyes so impossibly wide that they could have popped out of his sockets. They only thing that could be heard were the laboured stuttering gasps from Riku as everyone else held their breaths in anticipation.

Riku and Sora had been best friends since their literal births, and in primary school there had been many joined-at-the-hip jokes until they grew old enough to feel offended by any other implications it may have had. Vanitas hadn’t really thought about it before, but as he looked down on them he supposed this must’ve happened sooner or later.

Sora, with his penchant for overreacting to everything, surged forward and _jumped_ on Riku- causing the pair to topple over in a tight hug. He was screaming _‘yes yes yes!’_ over and over again as the two lay on the spongey floor of the pitch.

The rest of the field exploded; an eruption of chatter and cheers. The pair were pulled up and congratulated by numerous sweaty slaps on the back, and the team even tried to lift Sora up into the air man-of-the-match style but they were all too exhausted to do so. There was a chant of something or other as the horde migrated around the back of the school building.

Vanitas followed them; watching Ventus quake with nervousness made him feel a little anxious himself. The raven held his breath as his best friend began to edge his way through the crowd toward Ephemer. Was he going to _say_ something? Was he going to _confess_?

Ventus sidled up to Ephemer and tapped him on the shoulder, face blooming a rosy red and thumb wedged firmly between his teeth. The silver haired man turned around, and Vanitas’ heart jumped into his throat when he saw that Ephemer’s face was also a in bright flush.

He whirled around and grabbed Ventus by the arms and the blond’s squeak was very high pitched, “Ventus-! I mean Ven. There you are, I was just saying, who’d’ve thought Riku’d finally pluck up the courage to ask Sora first?”

Ventus bit deeply into his thumbnail and winced at the discomfort, “Ummm, y-yeah. Was thinkin’- I thought Sora was gonna ask first. Um, Ephe-”

“We weren’t like… _betting_ or anything but like, Brain was also thinking Sora would, since he didn’t think he could be _that_ obliviou- Brain! I was just telling Ven, he thought Sora would be the one to as well.”

Brain came up behind the two of them and clapped Ephemer on the back and wrung his ascot a little in an affectionate way that made Ventus feel a little nauseous. He laughed nervously and switched thumbs, eyes darting wildly between the two.

“I guess I just overestimated Sora and his ability to understand his surroundings. I guess he just reminded me of you a little bit- since you were the one who confessed to me.”

Ventus’ blood went cold, “Wh… what?”

“Oh… shit yeah I keep forgetting who we’ve told- don’t go like, telling anyone since not everyone knows yet, and if Brain’s mum finds out it won’t end well. I trust you though Ventus, you’re a good friend,” Ephemer said with one finger on his lips and the other on Brain’s shoulder.

Vanitas could see the devastation of Ventus’ face. His heart hurt in sympathy.

The couple blurred a little before Ventus’ unsteady gaze, who just looked at them a little dumbly- eyes unfocused. He kinda felt like the ground beneath him had opened up and swallowed his body, leaving his soul just wilting in the afternoon sunshine. The sickly feeling that had settled in his stomach was crawling up his throat with realisation hot on its heels.

Ephemer was dating Brain. That made so much sense, now he thought about it.

Both of their eyes widened as the blond began to sway, “Ventus… you- you alright? You’re not- you’re not… are you? I mean, I guess I just assumed, ‘cause you and…”

“No! No I’m… wow really I had no idea, you hi-hide it so well,” He said mutedly behind his chewed fingers, but his voice was so strained, “Uhh... congrats… congratulations you guys, um no don’t worry I won’t tell anyone.”

They both grinned and Ephemer even gave him a shoulder nudge that to the blond felt more like a kick in the teeth. Luckily for them all, Riku had broken out of his shocked reverie and planted a kiss on Sora’s lips which he very eagerly returned. Everyone turned to cheer except Ventus who just looked dejectedly down at the floor and began to melt into the crowd backwards, precariously close to collapsing.

Vanitas noticed this and darted forward to catch him from behind before he got a back full of mud. Vanitas immediately noticed how thin his friend was. Their school uniform blazers were rather baggy so he hadn’t noticed, but now wearing his sports kit and his arms wrapped his waist he could definitely tell that he’d lost a lot of weight.

“Ventus. _Ventus,_ I’m right here behind you, okay? I'm gonna lay you dow- _God,_ you’re thin, what the fuck have you been _eating?_ Or haven’t been eating. I can almost circle my hands all the way around your waist.” Vanitas said carefully and steadied Ventus who had his eyes closed and his lip was wobbling. Vanitas made it a point not to look.

“Thank… thank you Vanitas. It’s okay, I’m fine. Let me down, let me _down._ Please.” Ventus’ voice was teetering along the lines of being about to burst into tears but was trying to hold it back. He failed as tears slowly rolled down his cheeks and he grit his teeth in anguish. He looked _heartbroken._

Vanitas was going to make that smarmy rich boy regret ever being born.

“What did he say?”

“He… I don’t know who-”

_“What did he say Ventus?”_

His voice was very sharp and ground out hard, grating against Ventus.

“He… he told me not to say anything. I- I wouldn’t want to betray his trust.”

“Am I going to have to go _over_ there Ventus? I'm I going to have to go _over there_ and ask why he made you cry?” The raven towered over Ventus, casting a looming shadow of outrage. His face was murderous, and his hands were shaking by his sides. His lips twitched and Ventus flinched.

Ventus slowly raised a hand to his face; he hadn’t realised he’d been crying since his body felt a little numb.

“No… don’t. I'm not, he _can’t_ find out now, _please_ don’t tell him Vanitas,” And with that Ventus curled up into a foetal position and rocked back and forth with his head buried in his knees; the dam shattered and he was sobbing. He sounded almost scared of Vanitas which made the raven completely freeze.

Fear ran through Vanitas and he fell to his knees; shakily snaking an arm around Ventus’ neck and resting his face in the blond’s drooping hair, “I’m sorry, I’m so sorry for what I just… I won’t, I _won’t_ , _God_ I would never do anything to make you cry. You don’t have to tell me, I’m so sorry I didn’t mean to scare you. I…”

He trailed off and breathed in Ventus’ hair, taking in the stale scent of his sweat and mud. Vanitas must’ve been going delirious with regret because he really, _really_ liked the smell and he usually hated the odour of sweat. He didn’t move his head from Ventus’ hair, but the blond’s quivering made his heart sink.

“I just hate it when you’re sad. I hate it when you cry.”

“I know,” Ventus whimpered and looked up, locking eyes with Vanitas. Crystal-like tears fell from them and Vanitas forgot for a moment what he was doing as he got lost in those beautiful oceans.

Wait. What.

“Don’t cry… please,” Vanitas said weakly and wiped a few stray tears away, “Do you remember? If you cry, you’ll shrivel up into a prune.” He said with a very small smile.

Ventus choked out a quiet laugh and batted his hand away, “Shut up. How… God how long has it been since you said that?”

“You haven’t… cried this hard in a while. Please tell me what’s wrong, I swear on my _life_ I won’t say a word. I promise on my _honour.”_

“I know. I know, and I trust you,” He unfurled himself and wrapped his shaky arms around Vanitas, leaning into him sadly, “He just… I liked him a lot. I was going to as-ask him out but it turns out he's already dating. Brain. He's dating Brain already.”

Vanitas leaned into Ventus comfortingly as his crying slowed. He wouldn’t confront Ephemer personally about this, but he sure as hell wouldn’t let him get away with making Ventus cry. His jaw tensed and Ventus must’ve caught on because he cupped Vanitas’ face with soft wet hands and tilted it toward him so he could look at him sadly.

“It’s fine, really Vanitas it’s just a crush,” and Ventus just sighed despondently, “I guess… I'm really just good at having feelings for the wrong people.”

* * *

_past_

Ventus didn’t hate many things. He’d always been taught that hate was a very strong word and shouldn’t be used to describe things he didn’t like or that annoyed him so willy-nilly. It could cause undue distress to the people he used it around, and unnecessary hatred would breed unhappiness in him.

So Ventus really didn’t hate things, like when people ruffled his hair the wrong way or Brussel Sprouts, he just disliked them.

Yet Ventus _hated_ the colour orange, with what he considered to be a burning fiery passion; and regardless of the shade it would appear in, it would always shoot a shiver down his spine- or at least make him grimace a bit. He supposed it would be because of the negative connotations that orange always brought with it, especially regarding his life.

Oranges- the fruit, always had the worst taste to him and unfortunately it was near the _only_ fruit he was ever fed in childhood, and he’d had so many of them to the point where just the _scent_ was enough to make his head spin with disgust.

Radiant Clementine, was a bright garish orange that the staff at where he lived seemed to think was the most wonderful colour on the planet and branded one wall in every room on the premises with it to _‘brighten it up’_. Garnishing the gaudy paint job were encouraging messages such as ‘you matter’ and ‘you are a wonderful person’. The thought was there, but to Ventus it felt kinda hollow seeing the same empty words repeated over and over ad nauseum.

Orange haunted him like the ghosts of his family, it decorated his asylum and hung around his neck as a cotton noose, though more a warning to other people rather than to his own detriment.

Ventus was crammed in the furthermost room on the third floor, with the smallest window, the smallest bed and the smallest everything else. Ansem always said it was because he was small himself, and frugal with his limited possessions so he didn’t need the space. He shared the floor with an older kid called Ienzo, who always had his head in a book and barely ever spoke to him.

Initially, as with all rooms, the bed and desk had been facing the orange wall so when he woke up he could always see the _delightful_ positive phrases. Ventus had rearranged all of the furniture around in his room so that less of the wall was visible, obscured by his wardrobe and large mirror.

He sighed and wrung his orange lanyard around his neck, twisting his ID card in his left hand while he tapped his pencil against his lips pensively, deliberating over his maths homework. It also didn’t help that his maths workbook was _orange_ this year which made him hate it even more, really kicking him whilst he was down and sprawled on the ground.

The vivid kitsch of his unfortunate abode always dulled his mood, but today held some hope in it being somewhat enjoyable. Though without a sufficient timeframe he was delegated to lazing around in his room, and after an hour of mind-numbing mathematics he dropped his head on the desk languidly.

Without warning, Ansem briskly walked into the room, banging the old wooden door against the stopper. Ventus awoke from a slumber he didn’t know he’d entered and looked up at the stone-faced man with bleary eyes, brain not caught up with the meaning of him being there yet.

Ansem didn’t say a word, but there was a knowing look on his face, and he slowly moved out of the doorway as he waited for Ventus to wake up.

Then it clicked, and Ventus jolted up, racing out at breakneck speed. He thundered down two flights of stairs, slipped on a stray sock down the main hallway and burst into the main office. If every other room in the building was atrocious and ostentatious for having one wall soaked in Radiant Clementine, then the main office was the devil’s throne room for having all four walls _bathing_ in it. It was like emerging from a lightless room to an illuminated film studio, but Ventus wasn’t even focused on the walls.

“Mr. Eraqus!” He breathed, heavily so since he’d sprinted all the way there, and then noticed the two others that were sitting beside him; a tall girl with blue hair and a broadly built boy with brown hair. He felt like he recognised the brunet but when searching for a name he came up blank. Both were wearing the same school uniform as him too.

The old man smiled, the skin around his chin scar loose, “Ah Ventus, so nice to see you again,” He said kindly and gestured to the two, “This is Aqua, and Terra. They’re my kids.”

Ventus looked up at the pair, who were both smiling at him, which tickled his cheeks so he smiled back. Ansem finally caught up with him and walked brusquely into the room, acknowledging Eraqus with synchronised head-nods. The two adults shuffled to the other side and engaged in a very muted conversation whilst Ventus walked nervously up to Terra and Aqua and sat down in Eraqus’ seat.

“Hello, Ventus,” Aqua said gently and bent down a little so they were of similar heights; both of them were _very tall_ and poor Ventus was short for his age. He wasn’t as tall as Vanitas, who made fun of him for it sometimes.

“Hello… Aqua,” he simpered in what must have been a cute gesture as both of them cooed over him a little, smiles widening and eyes softening, “It’s lovely to meet the two of you.” He suddenly felt incredibly self-conscious that his stupid orange lanyard was out, not hidden away under his clashing red school jumper and moved to slip it under his shirt.

Terra followed his movements and sighed sympathetically, “Right, the awful orange Ashton lanyards. I’ve still got mine, actually,” he reached into his trouser pocket and pulled a lanyard of his own, “I don’t have to wear it anymore thank goodness- but I still need the ID card.”

Ventus’ eyes widened as he drank in Terra’s much younger face on his government issued child-identification card. Now he remembered why he recognised Terra. He had very few memories of him, but he had been on the bottom floor two years ago but had disappeared before Ventus really got to know him.

“Oh,” was all he said.

Of course, he’d been hopeful. Outsiders weren’t really allowed in the home unless visiting a child, and his tri-weekly visits with Eraqus since Vanitas and Mr. Xehanort had introduced the pair had been fun. Ventus liked Eraqus, he was kind and caring- and treated him like a real person over Ansem’s nonplussed and unsympathetic nods.

“Yes,” Aqua chuckled and led the trio over to a softer seating area where they could talk better, “This place’s penchant for the… brightest of orange was always an odd choice wasn’t it. I always hid my lanyard under my clothes, like you Ventus.”

So Aqua had been from the home too. That made him feel instantly much more at home with the pair, since they were like _him,_ they had the same experiences as him, they knew what he _felt._ He grinned even wider and put down a few of his metaphorical shields, opening up to the two a little. He’d only let Vanitas and Mr. Eraqus into his bubble so far, and it felt nice to relax around others he could relate to.

Terra looked very confused, eyes very wide as he fumbled with his lanyard and put it back on, only to hide it beneath his school jumper so it was barely visible. _“Ohhhh,_ that’s such as good idea,” he said flabbergasted; he’d clearly never thought of doing that of which _all_ Ashton kids did.

Both Aqua and Ventus looked at him, Aqua considerably less incredulous than Ventus was. Ventus would quickly learn that it often took Terra a little more time to catch up.

“Mm, hiding the bright orange is a bit more visually appealing, isn’t it?” Aqua said sweetly and crossed her legs over. Ventus decided he really liked her.

The three spoke for what ended up being close to a full hour, topics breaching every corner of Ventus’ small six year old vocabulary as Aqua spoke like a proper adult even if she was only eleven. She was very collected, proper and neat- and incredibly polite as well. Terra was also very polite but seemed a bit more serious and cool than Aqua, who typically had a gentle smile. They both gave the impression of being very wonderful people.

At some point, Terra had to go into the main room with Eraqus and Ansem for what he seemed to be very excited for and claimed to be one of the best days of his life. It left Aqua and Ventus alone, and suddenly the blond left very awkward without Terra there.

“So…” Aqua trailed off, looking out of the window into the back garden, “This place has really changed since I was here last.”

Ventus looked up, and noticed how she was a little uncomfortable, the feeling seeping into him and igniting his anxiety, “It… has…?” He said nervously and his fingernails found themselves between his teeth again.

“Mm,” Her voice was distant, and when Ventus’ breathed in was _painful,_ “There was still all the orange but… there were other people working here. Michael and Minerva were their names.”

“Oh, Miss. Minnie and Mr. Mickey! Yes I do know them, they’re not here all the time though. Miss. Minnie comes in every Mondays and Wednesdays and Thursdays and Sundays. Mr. Mickey only comes in on the Wednesdays,” Ventus blurted, and squeaked- covering his mouth.

Aqua just laughed, “They were full-time back then. Minnie was lovely, kind and sweet, such a wonderful lady. Mickey… was also kind but he didn’t seem to like me very much.”

“O-oh. Why?”

“I’m not sure, maybe it was because we would always play hide and seek, and he would always lose me- are you alright? Y-your _hands!”_

Ventus had bitten his nails so much they’d bled again, something he hadn’t done in _years_. He’d been biting his nails a lot less recently, now he was around Vanitas. Vanitas always seemed to make him feel safe, secure- and he was less anxious around him.

She whipped a few plasters out of her bag and bandaged up his fingers gently kissing each one better softly. The constricting feeling in his chest faded for a warmth that spread out to his toes and he giggled. She smiled and laughed, bringing a hand up to ruffle it in his hair. Ventus… _disliked_ when people did that, but he still beamed at her; he didn’t want to upset Aqua and was happy she was comfortable with him.

Terra came sauntering back into the room, a heinous grin sprawled on his face and even if Ventus had known him for less than an hour, he knew that smile just didn’t _fit_ on his face. He was very very happy about something.

Aqua looked up and a huge heartfelt smile grew on her lips as she got up to greet him, “Is it done?!” She said excitedly.

“Yes!” Terra sounded overjoyed, and the two wrapped each other in a bone squashing hug that had Ventus wincing a little. Ansem and Eraqus came back into the room, and the smiles seemed to have spread to the adults too; Ventus was visibly disturbed seeing Ansem smile as he’d never done so before. It looked very off.

“Congratulations Terra,” Ansem crowed, voice still hoarse and an obvious indication of his addiction to cigarettes, “Now, I believe these belong to you, Eraqus.”

He dumped the large wad of papers he had into Eraqus’ open arms and dusted off his hands like he was glad to be free of them. He probably was. Ventus couldn’t fathom what drove the man to want to be a care worker of all things. Then Ventus realised what was going on.

He’d been a little confused, when Terra had said he’d still got his lanyard and ID, but of course it takes time for a child to go through the official adoption process, as even when fostered and living with someone they were still a child of the government. It seemed it had all just been finalised.

Eraqus discarded the papers onto the table and also gave Terra a very loving embrace.

“You’re really _really_ my dad now,” Terra couldn’t stop smiling and Eraqus barked out a laugh and ruffled Terra’s hair.

Ventus was happy for them, he really really was. Such incredible and loving success stories were few and far between, and both Terra and Aqua seemed to have been blessed with their happy ending with Eraqus. Ventus shrank back in his chair, his smile wavering a little. He bit his plasters and winced at the flare of pain- and the bitter glue taste on his tongue.

This was an amazing moment, and it had nothing to do with him.

He felt so awkward, of course Eraqus wasn’t here for _him._ What’s so special about him? He's just a small, damaged orphan kid with anxiety, and Eraqus already had two amazing children. Ventus must’ve been _stupid_ to think Eraqus would ever consider fostering him.

Whilst Eraqus, Terra and Aqua celebrated, he slowly slipped out of the door and scurried back upstairs to his room, blinking the tears out of his eyes. He was such a _horrible person,_ it was likely the best day of Terra’s life, a day that Ventus could only dream would come, and he was jealous.

Closing the door gently he sank into his bed, throwing the covers over his head and began weeping into his fitted sheet. He was sobbing so hard he didn’t notice his door creak open and he got a fright when he felt someone sit gently on the end of his bed.

“Ventus,” Eraqus’ voice resounded, and the boy’s heart juddered in his chest. His body froze and he hoped it was a trick of his mind. “Are you okay in there?”

Ventus clenched his fist as his chest pounded painfully, “Y-yeah. I’m alright. Just a little bit tired,” he said but his shaky voice betrayed him.

Eraqus didn’t say anything, and Ventus squeezed his eyes shut, wishing the man would go away, because the guilt was eating away at him. Suddenly the weight on the end of his bed became too heavy for him and he burst out from his refuge, tears streaming down his face.

“I didn’t want to ruin Terra’s big day,” He sobbed and rubbed his eyes with his fists, “Because I'm a horrible _horrible_ person and I was jealous because I wanted you to foster _me_ but you’ve already got two kids and why would anyone want me I'm the broken one.”

He broke down and Eraqus pulled him into his chest, hushing him and wiping his tears. “Please don’t say such untrue things about yourself, and it’s only natural Ventus, you’re young and you want a family. Neither me nor Terra would ever blame you for that when you’ve been institutionalised your whole life.” He pulled Ventus back who looked at him, eyes watering and lip wobbling.

“Yes Terra’s adoption was one of the big things we came here for today,” He wiped Ventus’ cheeks with a handkerchief and smiled, “The other was because I wanted you to meet Terra and Aqua, to see if you minded them being your big brother and sister.”

It took a moment, but Ventus’ eyes widened impossibly so and his mouth fell open, “Y… you mean..?”

“Of course. I’ve loved spending time with you over the past couple of months and I wanted to raise the option today about whether I could foster you. I think you’d make a perfect addition to our family.”

Ventus flung his arms around Eraqus’ neck and cried very loudly, but this time they were tears of joy.

* * *

It took three weeks for the process to be finalised, but eventually Ventus was finally fostered by Eraqus.

Over the three weeks, he spent time getting to know Aqua and Terra much better. Aqua, he learned was subhuman; she was incredibly clever, exceedingly kind and also really sporty. She was preparing for her final exams to leave primary school, which she would obviously pass with flying colours, but also at the same time was part of a volleyball club.

Despite being so busy all the time though, she always found time to spend with Eraqus in odd trivia games like _Trivial Pursuit_ or going out to pub quiz nights with him. She would always help Terra with his homework if he was struggling or they’d sit down and do manicures, which apparently Terra _really_ enjoyed.

Terra, whilst a little dense, more than made up for it with heart. He adored giving big loving hugs, always bringing one in for Ventus when they saw each other which Ventus treasured. Ventus found he also adored big loving hugs but being deprived from them his whole life made him realise what amazing thing he’d been missing.

He was _so_ strong, he did judo and was apparently something called a blue belt which he supposed was cool even if he didn’t know what that meant. He liked to just talk to Ventus about the most random things, their conversations having ranged from their favourite flavour of curry, to debating the reason for the existence of snails.

The pair grew into his best friends almost instantly, and he just loved being around them. Eraqus was also a great father-figure who was so _nice_ to him and _bought_ him things and sometimes just let him hug him for a while when the pains in his chest got too much. He understood what the feelings that came along with the family were; he had no doubt it was love or at least a developing love for them, though he really didn’t know how it worked.

No-one though, could replace what Vanitas was to him. He didn’t see Vanitas much over the half-term Whitsun holiday, and thus hadn’t had the chance to tell him about his good news. He was due to move in with Eraqus and Terra and Aqua the day before school started back up again, in which the first day back he wouldn’t be going to school because apparently he needed to go into the city with Eraqus to finalise things with the government.

The day he moved in was wrought with tears of joy, many hugs and kisses and many prayers and thanks to the Lord above that the awful orange was gone and Ventus could paint his new bedroom any colour he pleased. He wanted to go with green; his favourite colour.

He felt a bit guilty not telling Vanitas anything, but none of his new family- including Vanitas, let him go back to the old area where the children’s home and Vanitas’ home were. Oddly enough, Ventus had never been to Vanitas’ house, he didn’t even know where he lived. For some reason Vanitas just refused to tell him. Though, he hadn’t been allowed inside the children’s home either so maybe they were even.

They usually walked to school together and would always meet on the second road before the entrance to the old park and walk from there. He hoped Vanitas hadn’t waited too long for him when he didn’t turn up.

He’d asked Terra and Aqua- his new brother and sister!- which sounded really weird and he wasn’t quite able to say it yet, to chase up Vanitas and tell him that Ventus was fine and he wasn’t dead and all that, so he hoped it would be okay.

They’d had a long gruelling day in the city, and the government officials had been as rude and as monotonous as they usually were when he went to see them every year. But this time Ansem- his primary care worker was finally getting rid of him and Eraqus smiling was by his side.

His social worker though, a lovely lady called Strelitzia who he would usually meet twice a week was overjoyed for him and hugged him pretty tightly, her congratulations a front for the fact that he would still be seeing her once a month since he was still in the system. It was fine though, he liked Strelitzia and he praised the Lord there was no more Ansem.

The next day, he was shepherded back to the old district by a very wary Terra and Aqua, and to his delight Vanitas was still standing there the next day and he ran up to him and jumped on him.

 _“Vanitas!_ I missed you! Oh my gosh I've got so many things to tell you about!” He babbled and hugged the boy’s back in a way that he loved when Terra did it. Vanitas yelped and instinctively brought his hands up to pry Ventus off, but when he realised who it was, he stopped.

“Ventus?” Vanitas questioned and turned his head so he could see his friends’ shining blue eyes. He looked so incredibly _happy_. Vanitas blinked at the blond as he slid off of his shoulders, “What’s up? You look really happy. Is this about what happened yesterday?”

Ventus, having had an affection overload over the past few days, hugged Vanitas and rubbed his face against his, to which Vanitas’ eyes widened and he squeaked, “Oh I’ve had an _amazing_ holiday! Guess what happened to me guess what guess what guess what?!”

Vanitas blinked at his exuberance, “Um… you…” His gaze trailed down that of his best friend, “You made a few new friends?”

“Nope! Well yes actually but they’re more than that-”

“More?” He looked off to the side where the two older kids that came up and harassed him yesterday were observing them, and he and Ventus began to slowly amble toward the school, “Who are they anyway, and why did you come from _that_ way?”

Ventus was bubbling, a flurry of hushed giggles were erupting from behind the hand covering his mouth, his other hand was clasped around Vanitas’ as he skipped forwards. Then he burst and divulged what he’d been hiding, “I got fostered!”

Vanitas had to think about it for a second and then gasped, “Wait… that… that means that someone came and rescued you from the orange place you were living at… right?!”

Vanitas didn’t completely understand the entirety of Ventus’ situation. He knew that the boy had no parents, so he lived in a big house three streets down under the jurisdiction of the ‘government’ that Xehanort always complained about, with lots of other kids who also didn’t have any parents. He knew Ventus could leave the house if he was ‘fostered’ or ‘adopted’ but neither word meant much to him and in his mind was synonymous with rescued because of how much Ventus disliked the home.

“Yes! It was Mr. Eraqus! Remember how he’s been visiting me for the past few weeks, well basically he came and fostered me! I moved house, I live closer to the school like right next to the village hall- where the charity thing was where sold our bug paintings at last year. Oh! And I also live with Terra and Aqua- that’s those two who came up to yo- yeah them over there! I guess that they’re my big brother and sister now, but it still feels kinda weird-!”

Vanitas could not help the huge smile that crept up on his face. He laughed gleefully as Ventus babbled on about the fantastic event that had completely upended his life in the best way possible. Ventus was so _happy,_ no he was beyond happy- he was completely euphoric, upon a cloud that he couldn’t possibly be knocked down from. Vanitas would protect that cloud for the remainder of time if it meant he could keep Ventus so ecstatic forever.

Despite the fact that Vanitas hadn’t really had a great holiday, and his day yesterday hadn’t been stellar either without Ventus, it was immediately wiped away by the bright rays of Ventus’ golden sunshine. Ventus being so happy made him incorrigibly happy too, and Vanitas placed a hand on his chest at the warm feeling. 

He yearned for Ventus to be able to stay as happy as this forever, and ever and _ever._

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> thank you so much for reading! believe me, i hate me too making my cute darling baby Ven suffer like this. i'm evil and awful, is what i've discovered.  
> every part of me just wanted to call this -the Ventus suffers chapter- but i managed to refrain thank God.  
> how are you all enjoying remind? i was going to have to wait till i got home to play it, and then the cutscenes were on youtube and i'm weak oops.  
> i'd love to hear if you really were surprised on a few of the little reveals, or if my beta is just oblivious. failing that you could just rant about how much you hate me now, i'm cool with knowing i've made you feel something


	6. the Eraqus hate squadron-- members: Vanitas

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> the sixth part- halfway there!
> 
> \-- Aqua (and Terra maybe) confront Vanitas about a few things that were on their minds. Ventus, is not amused
> 
> \-- Ventus begins fencing, and Vanitas wants to as well, but can't really afford to

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> who'd've thought i'd make it this far? halfway... really? i'm shocked at my dedication to be honest with you. i hope that you enjoy reading this~!  
> ehhh also i kinda had the biggest writer's block writing this chapter; the second part specifically- so i switched it up and now its nothing like the original plan. only time will tell whether that was the correct decision i guess

_**CHAPTER SIX** _

the Eraqus hate squadron-- members: Vanitas

_present_

Vanitas had barely seen Ventus in three days, which was weird because the little blond usually followed him around like a lost puppy. Though, by _had barely seen_ , specifically he meant he hadn’t once spoken to him despite them sharing classes, or through their usual seating arrangement in maths- in comparison to how they used to be.

Often at times Ventus would try to strike up a conversation that would end up dead-ending in nowhere, and settle as an awkward silence on Ventus’ end as he twiddled his thumbs nervously. And if Vanitas was particularly bored, he’d do something a little mean like tease Ventus or rag on his insecurities that had the boy’s lip quivering in a way that made Vanitas want to jump out of a window for hurting him.

Yet since Monday, Ventus had been oddly silent. He’d stuck his head down and (tried to) solve his equations, but even without Vanitas’ prodding he still gave up halfway through and read a book instead.

The book that he was intensely scouring was called _War Horse_ ; something Vanitas seen up on Xehanort’s dusty bookshelf- which didn’t exactly give him good reservations on it being something Ventus would want to read. Ventus was a slow reader; still on the first few chapters, given by the thickness of the pages collected under the cracks and fissures on his thumb.

Vanitas hadn’t tried to talk to Ventus either. It wasn’t like he felt an aura of hostility from him, but it was the closest thing he could describe it with, even if _hostility_ wasn’t really the right word. Ventus didn’t even know what it _meant_ to be hostile.

Aqua, however, definitely did know.

Two days later, on a dull and cloudy Wednesday that usually had the hockey team racing around the pitch, Vanitas had been loitering around the back of the building in his usual stomping grounds that overlooked the tennis courts. He was definitely not shivering from the cold because he didn’t have a coat; and was only outside because the heating inside was too stuffy anyway.

Aqua had briskly marched up to him in a flurry of her stylish winter dregs and looked down on him with a hard glare from her tall overbearing height. He didn’t need to ask her how she found him; Aqua knew everything.

He supposed he was about to get his penance for… whatever he’d done to Ventus this time to make her so furious.

“Vanitas,” She had said, voice stern and controlled, “You are going to explain to me, _now_ why exactly my youngest brother is crying his eyes out upstairs in the toilet.”

The raven looked over at her dryly, “You went into the boy’s toilet?”

Vanitas didn’t cower under pressure, because he was strong and worthy, and not a foolish child. Yet when Aqua wanted something, she got it, and by any means necessary if the look she gave Vanitas was anything to go by. He shuddered.

“He…’s been reading _War Horse_ recently. Did he get to a sad part in that?”

“No,” She said matter-of-factly, “That book… has been confiscated from him. No, I called our father and he spilled the beans that it was something _you_ said. Apparently you and he had a… _disagreement._ ”

Eraqus that unctuous piece of shit. This wasn’t the first time Vanitas had sworn he’d murder the man and he didn’t think it would be the last.

It didn’t quell his irritation when Aqua mentioned the specific date he’d been trying to forget about either, and he huffed a puff of breath that came out visible due to the cold winter air. Ventus had likely gone crying back to his idiot father afterward. Which meant that Eraqus probably _knew._

“He wouldn’t tell me what,” She demurred and shifted to a more offensive stance on her other foot, likely a show of dominance that triggered a spike of anger in Vanitas, “So I have to get it out of _you._ If you care about Ven at all you’ll tell me so I can comfort him and help him feel better.”

The guilt trip. A common starter in types like Aqua, “It’s none of your God damn business what happened between Ventus and I. It happened a while ago. I’m very much over it- and if he’s not that’s his own fucking fault.”

“It’s clearly affected him deeply,” She said tersely, “his mood has gone down since then, and this isn’t the first time he’s cried. If you tell me, I can sort it.”

Vanitas wasn’t having it and turned away from her, “Tough. Shit. If you’re so desperate to know, ask your fucking father. Or Ventus himself though I doubt he’d tell you.”

He clicked his tongue and turned to leave, his denial a knife carving circles deep in his heart- but Aqua never lost her battles. Instantly she was behind him and grabbed him roughly by the shoulder. Vanitas fell apart, he screamed at her and kicked her away, body shaking a little before he got a handle on it. She staggered back with very wide eyes.

“What…”

“ _Fuck off!”_ He snarled, sarcasm dried up as his right arm twinged, “I don’t _fucking care!_ Just piss off and leave me alone!”

Throwing open the back doors into the music department, he stormed through them, but not before he heard her mumble, “I’m sorry…”

He didn’t need her pity.

* * *

From that day on, things got much worse. Again, it was like Ventus was suddenly actively avoiding him, even though he knew that was something the boy would never do. Vanitas would bet a large sum on it being Aqua marshalling the two of them apart at every given opportunity. The one time he’d seen a peek of the blond, she’d been standing over him like a ferocious bodyguard.

Surprisingly, or maybe not considering his character, Terra had come up to Vanitas and tried to talk but had been violently shot down with harsh words every time. Judging by the confused looks on his face every time he insulted him though, he was pretty sure Terra had _no idea_ what Vanitas was talking about, thus invectives didn’t keep him away like they did others. He’d surmised that Aqua was trying to retroactively keep them apart by employing dumb idiot Terra to harass him about something.

He’d chased Vanitas up after school whilst Ventus went to fencing and Aqua went to volleyball. Terra was _huge;_ puberty had hit him like a brick and he _also_ towered over Vanitas- who he’d managed to corner round the back by the bike sheds.

“Ah-ah-ah! Vanitas! Listen, I reeeeaally gotta talk to you, and don’t give me any excuses this time, I know you aren’t busy today.”

Vanitas turned his hardest glare on him; golden orbs of molten lava bored into the man who shrugged it off entirely, or perhaps it just went over his head. “Fuck. Off. I don’t wanna talk about Ventus.”

“No no, listen- what? It’s not about Ven it’s about your… er, it’s about your _dad.”_

Vanitas blood began to struggle again, and he scoffed at Terra, “That makes me want to talk to you even less.”

“Well,” He sized up in a stance that would be intimidating if Vanitas didn’t know that Terra was one of the last people on the planet who would hurt him. Ventus often raved about how soft and sweet Terra was, but Vanitas could never see it. “Tough… I think that’s how I goes. I’ve been thinking about something pretty… sad for quite a while now and I wanted to ask you about it.”

Tired, but seeing no way out he relented. He didn’t want to risk being _physically_ caught by Terra because, he had no doubt he could snap Vanitas’ bony form in half. Probably on accident.

“Go on then.”

Terra smiled a little, then looked down at the ground nervously, a fleeting embarrassment rushing across his face, “Er, do you remember how a few years back I was being tutored by your dad? And… uh… y’know-”

Vanitas did know, and he’d tried to forget. He nodded curtly.

“That… doesn’t… happen all the time, does it?” Terra clutched his left arm limply whilst his body wriggled a little.

Vanitas looked at him emphatically and took a sharp step toward the distracted man, who predictably jumped. Clearly it still bothered him.

“Do you mean the shouting or everything else.”

“Everything… else. M-my dad shouts when he’s super angry too, so did my taekwondo instructor when I dislocated Isa’s knee but _…”_

“Yes,” He replied haughtily and walked around to the back of Terra and placed a hand on his lower back, to which he predictably tensed up and shook. “You get used to it after a while.”

“But…” Terra looked beyond nervous as he turned around, and for a face that usually looked so serious it seemed kind of wrong, “That’s… not right. You shouldn’t… he shouldn’t really…”

“It’s life,” His voice was so low that the emotion had almost drained out of it, “Everybody has their own ways to cope with it. And that’s his.”

“Still though. You can’t- it’s not,” He broke off with an effortless sigh as he deliberated over his words, very clearly out of his element, “You should tell someone. It’s not… well- you know what it is and what it isn’t. And yet you put up with it? Why?!” He burst out.

 _“It’s. Life,”_ Vanitas groused, sick of the conversation, “If you fucking care so much shit-for-brains, tell your shit-for-brains father to get off his ass and do it.”

"My father… I did tell him. He's the only one I've told though, _I swear_. He ummm," He closed his eyes and sucked in a very painful sounding breath, "He said not to say anything about it to anyone, and it was just how your father dealt with things."

Vanitas couldn't even spare any anger for Eraqus, he'd figured out a while ago that the man must've known about his father's habits. That didn't stop it hurting though; that he'd known and chosen to turn a blind eye.

He pushed past Terra who blanched at him, hopefully understanding words so simple like ‘shit-for-brains’, and just left the school. He’d had it up to here with idiotic people trying to nosey their way into his life and change everything he knew- just like that.

Still, Terra didn’t need to say any of that. He wasn’t the first to know either, and Vanitas would be lying if he said he wasn’t happy that someone else knew. Terra had been to his house, that’s what sparked it he supposed. It’d just taken him almost three years to put all the broken, fractured pieces together.

Eraqus though, was still an unctuous piece of _shit._

* * *

Eventually, Ventus found out about the collusion of Aqua shielding him from Vanitas. It took less time than Vanitas anticipated; only a week and a half- but Ventus wasn’t stupid. He was just far too trusting in his adopted siblings and didn’t anticipate the kickback on the way down.

He wasn’t too happy when Aqua broke and asked him about their… disagreement that day. Vanitas had been right; it _was_ their private business and Ventus was rather hurt by Aqua trying to weasel her way into their affairs.

Vanitas didn’t know the full extent of this confrontation, but it had circulated around the school enough so that Vanitas had overheard one of the school nerds- another adopted kid called Ienzo whispering about it.

For the third time in two weeks, one of Eraqus’ flighty children had marched up to him with a determination on their faces. This time it had been his clear favourite of the three, and he inwardly he felt happier as he approached- even if he was supposed to be annoyed with him right now.

“Vanitas!” Ventus called, and the raven eyed him dryly, sighing the same way he had for all three of them.

“What Ventus.”

“I heard about what happened with you and Aqua. And Terra,” He said and crossed his arms in the way Vanitas had always liked. “Aqua came up to me and asked me about… _then_.”

“Yeah,” Vanitas affirmed but his expression didn’t change, “Though by the looks of it it’s been seriously exaggerated. We talked, Aqua threatened me if I upset you again, and I left. That’s _it_.”

“And Terra?”

His gaze hardened. He believed Ventus assumed a few things; he had been his best friend for six years after all, but he would _not_ have him involved. He was too bright. Too pure.

“That was a private conversation too. Not about you, about something else. Between us.”

Ventus’ sky blue irises stared intensely into Vanitas’ golden ones, but he relented and looked away.

“Okay. But still! I can’t believe she would do that! It’s none of her business!”

Vanitas couldn’t believe he was about to defend Aqua of all people, “She had her reasons. Apparently you’ve been moping and crying about it and she wanted to help.”

Ventus went a bit red, and his frown deepened. Vanitas hated that look on him. He flustered a little and began chewing his nails again, wincing at the foul tasting nail polish he’d started putting on there to stop his nibbling habit. It didn’t work as he just kept it up. Vanitas remembered how he’d saved up for _ages_ to buy that for Ventus last Christmas. Those wintry holidays were approaching them again, and it seemed the pair would be spending them apart this year.

Vanitas had never celebrated, Xehanort actively opposed any semblance of religion and was too much of a downer to celebrate something. He didn’t work anymore either, so really the December holidays weren’t really holidays for him as much as every other day was.

Traditions from around this holiday looked weird and convoluted anyway. Fat old men breaking and entering homes through God damn chimneys was a _frightening_ tale, and coupled with ridiculous notions such as tiny mini people called elves and flying reindeer- Vanitas was pretty sure he’d dodged a bullet with that one with how ridiculous it sounded.

Ventus was obsessed with Christmas though. He’d tried and failed to get Vanitas into the holiday spirit. Ventus has also often failed and struggled in talking to Vanitas about his problems. Even on regular good friends speaking terms. Now on not-regular, not-good friends speaking terms he seemed to be bottling it all up inside and crying about it later.

“She couldn’t help…” Ventus said after a long pause, and Vanitas blinked back to reality once he’d noticed his mind had wandered thinking about fucking Christmas of all things. “Only you could really help I guess… if we talked about it.”

“No,” Vanitas shot down and again, Ventus flinched back and half-wheezed like his lungs were filled with water. Vanitas also flinched, and the same water began to drown him, but for a different reason.

 _“_ Plea _-please_ Vanitas,” He’d begged, face a contorted mess of agony and he took a few steps forward. This time Vanitas did not back away as he advanced, and looked down on his former best friend almost pitifully. “I need- I need you in my life again. I… it hurts when you’re not with me. It hurts so much I think I'm going crazy.”

All Vanitas wanted to do was throw every fucking thing that was holding him back the middle finger and wrap his arms around the blubbering blond and hold him tight. But he couldn’t do it.

He just shook his head as his throat constricted too tight for words and turned away. He heard Ventus’ desperate cry behind him again and his heart pounded ferociously, but he kept walking. It was better this way.

There was so much more to everything now, and Vanitas wasn’t sure he could handle it anymore.

* * *

_past_

_“En garde!”_ Ventus came spinning around the corner and poised in a deadly stance with a rather malleable-looking sword. Vanitas definitely wasn’t expecting to be violently assaulted when he rounded the corner, and the shock rendered him flat on his behind when he instinctively jumped back from the lunge. Ventus flounced like he was modelling for some invisible cameraman, pointing his sword dangerously close to Vanitas’ face, who flinched back.

“Ven- _Ventus!”_ Vanitas rasped, voice panicky from the fright but also from the pain that shot up his lower back as he hit the concrete, “What… what are you _doing_ waving that sword around?!”

Ventus rubbed a finger under his nose pretentiously and beamed, “It’s not a sword, it’s a _sabre_. Mr. Eraqus bought it for me since I'm going to be starting up fencing lessons this week!”

Vanitas looked wearily up at Ventus, who was leaning over him whilst resting on his sword- no sorry _sabre_ and was holding his hand out eagerly for Vanitas to take. Vanitas blew out a hissing breath of hot air in a bid to pretend to be mad, but it was pretty difficult when Ventus was glowing at him like that.

“Right right,” He said gruffly and took Ventus’ hand, shaking himself down like he’d fallen in a puddle, “Same difference. You can still poke my eye out with it though so _be careful.”_

Sticking his tongue out in a playful manner, Ventus skipped around the back of Vanitas, giggling as they turned the corner and began to head towards the school. Vanitas couldn’t help his frown and let out an exhausted sigh, the walk already felt like it was dragging behind him, attached to a collection of three tonne weights.

Recently, Vanitas had been having a few… personal issues. His mood had worsened, more so by each day and it had gotten to the point where he had started snapping at people even when they didn’t do anything wrong.

Sometimes though, it was just easier to do so than to try and be nice when he really wasn’t feeling it.

Ventus didn’t deserve it though, he was always bright and happy and cheerful, and worthy of so much more than Vanitas’ irritation or ire. So Vanitas tried, he really did- to keep the bitter comments from tumbling out on a particularly bad day.

Unfortunately, Ventus was still as perceptive as he always was, so when Vanitas started chewing on his tongue, he slowed his pace and eyed the raven wearily, “You alright? Your face is doing the thing again where it scrunches up tight and then your cheeks pop out.”

“I’m fine,” Vanitas groused and shoved his hands in his pockets, “Tell me more about… what- what was it, fencing? You’re clearly pretty excited about it, enough to be waving that hazard of a weapon around the park like it’s made of rubber.”

Ventus laughed and prodded the end of the sabre with his index finger, and Vanitas noticed the end had some weird metal ball stuck to it, keeping the sabre from its sharp potential, “You’ve started using fancy words like that and its _weird,_ what does hazard even mean… no _stop_ you can’t take the point off _no get off-_ its screwed on to the blade.”

Vanitas pulled back from his attack of the tip of the sword and grumbled a little, “Then what’s even the point of having the stupid thing if you can’t pierce anything with it?”

Apparently his tone had been dryer than he’d intended as Ventus’ face fell and he recoiled, unhappily stuffing the weapon back into his long bag and pulling on his school backpack straps in the way that Vanitas’ knew meant he was feeling affronted.

Vanitas just sighed guiltily, “Sorry, sorry I just… I don’t even know what fencing is. Is it sword fighting? Like the stuff on TV cause that’s… pretty cool.”

Smile returning a little, Ventus tilted his head, “No not really, it’s different, like you have to be in set positions and do specific movements. And the aim isn’t like to like, lop anyone’s head off, but to strike them once a bout.”

So it _was_ sword-fighting, just very dulled down to the point where eight year olds like Ventus could do it and not wind up in the hospital bleeding out and dying, like everyone ends up doing in all of those TV shows and films Xehanort had been watching. That wasn’t sword fighting either really, but recently the old man had been marathoning a few hospital shows; _Casualty_ which apparently Kairi’s mother starred in _,_ and then this American one called _Grey’s Anatomy._ It did nothing for Vanitas but make him certain he never wanted to step foot in a hospital ever again.

He supposed that was why the blade wasn’t sharp and had a metal ball on the end. It wasn’t for hurting others, but for sport. Suddenly Ventus’ interest in fencing made a lot more sense. Ventus was so far from being someone who would hurt someone that Vanitas was initially confused about the whole sabre thing and thought Ventus was screwing with him.

“Kinda like a dance then?”

“No, not like a…” Ventus cut himself off with a confused look, and began swaying from side to side like he was performing a ritual of waltzes in his head, “No not really like a dance. More like… really frantic synchronised swimming.”

Vanitas didn’t know what synchronised swimming was. Ventus had to explain it to him. Vanitas didn’t even know _how_ to swim, and doing odd poses upside down while holding your breath sounded absolutely awful. And painful too. He didn’t know how sword fighting could be related to that _at all._

It was a bright and cheerful Monday morning and the pair made their merry way down into the more pavemented part of the countryside, weaving through the newly planted trees that boasted a brilliant green in the late summer sun. Ventus’ bag was practically bulging with its new status of ‘sabre sheath’ since apparently real life swords didn’t need them if they weren’t going to harm anyone.

Vanitas winces when it hits him in the leg as they jog through the village, and ignores Ventus’ odd looks and flurries of apologies every time. Ventus had been pretty cautious around Vanitas recently, trying not to touch him much- if at all since Vanitas had had a mental breakdown a month or so prior. In fact, the whole school had been on edge around Vanitas, like he would suddenly burst into flames without warning, and they didn’t dare get close to him to avoid getting burned.

Ventus stayed, much to Vanitas’ immense gratification since Vanitas didn’t really know what he’d do without him. They were best friends, and now that Aqua had moved on up to high school and Terra had achieved his red belt in taekwondo thus dedicating more time sparring and training for his black stripe- Ventus’ free time had been liberated. Which meant they were spending _more_ time together and honestly Vanitas loved every second of it.

Just last week, Vanitas had made a curious venture into Eraqus’ house (his first in well over a year and since Ventus had been fostered) and the pair had nuked the old man’s sparkling marble kitchen with brownie batter as they’d attempted to bake a tray by themselves.

Vanitas loved sweet things with a passion and when he’d nibbled a bit of brownie once that Ventus had brought in as his packed lunch (don’t tell his father, the man would kill him) he was hooked almost instantly on its crispy yet gooey texture. They’d tried to recreate the magic in Ventus’ new oversized house but failed miserably if eggs somehow ending up on the ceiling was any indication.

Eraqus had insisted they use brownie mix. Ventus had insisted from scratch with flour and sugar. Vanitas hadn’t insisted on anything and had no idea how brownies were even _made_ since he wasn’t allowed bakery cookbooks at home.

Advancing up the twisted path, the dreaded halls that employed grief and misery came into view over the horizon; its imaginary prison bars stretched out, and the gate was open invitingly for anyone who was foolish enough to be dazzled by its recently modernised architecture.

Vanitas was not so bedazzled, having had to endure the tail end of loud, maddening construction noises repeatedly for the last six months- which culminated in entirely external changes as the desperately needed ventilation system was ultimately scrapped at the last minute; a complete waste of a million pounds.

The school, in what Vanitas would later see as a foolish decision made on the governing board’s part, also functioned as a community gymnasium. The B1 floor of the school had been modelled into an unorthodox studio, in what Vanitas was convinced to have previously been a torture basement since it was a well-known fact that the school building was once an insane asylum. An old-timey insane asylum that had boasted all the murderous trimmings.

It was here that Terra spent most of his waking hours trying to kick people in the face, and doing it well if the number of golden trophies that lined Eraqus’ lounge mantlepiece were anything to go by. Aqua did volleyball, but in an outsourced area in the more metropolitan part of the city and even though she always won, it would be as a team, so she didn’t get to keep the trophy herself.

With the unexpected abundance of free time, Ventus seemed to have gotten sick of seeing countless rewards in his home that weren’t dedicated to him, and a week ago announced to Vanitas out of nowhere that he was going to take up fencing. Vanitas had completely forgotten about it, not knowing what fencing was either despite Ventus prattling on about it, until today.

After a long and arduous day of barely listening; mind elsewhere, Vanitas was ready to embark on the journey home, alone. Ventus launched out of his seat and almost grabbed Vanitas’ arm as he was leaving the room but stopped just in time when he saw boy’s frightened flinch.

“Come on!” He gibbered and tugged at Vanitas’ jumper sleeve that hadn’t been replaced since year one, so it was far too small for him, “You have to come down to the arena with me!”

Vanitas snickered and suppressed a shudder, having recently heard that exact line in one of Xehanort’s horror movies. The person following the creepy little girl down below ground always got murdered, though he knew he’d be safe with Ventus.

The young blond dragged him down two flights of stairs to the torture dungeon, also known as the ‘arena’, where people were queued up in a jagged line that curved round into more of a semi-circle. Everyone was in various stages of undress in trying to put on large bulky outfits that Vanitas thought looked really silly.

The arena had two floors, the room below the studio where Vanitas and Ventus were was the dojo- where the martial arts took place. Judging by the fact that the door to the stairs was ajar he guessed something was on right now.

Ventus yanked on Vanitas as they traipsed up to the reception desk and he began animatedly gesturing to his bag containing the sabre. When that didn’t work he lugged out a mountain of crumpled paperwork and pointed at various words that the distracted looking secretary gave in and waved a smiling Ventus off on an instructor.

She turned dully to Vanitas and asked after his consent forms, and he was struck with an odd sense of longing as he looked over at Ventus listening intently to the instructor talk. Slowly, Vanitas shook his head and she looked at him with a sigh of antipathy, pointing vaguely to the stairs for the viewing platform.

Perhaps conditioned against weaponry by the extreme violence that he was subjected to watching from a young age, Vanitas thought he’d hate fencing. An hour later, after watching mostly Ventus wave the sword around in a variety of poses- he found it was something he really wanted to try.

He couldn’t explain why when asked later in life, nor when asked at the time- though he suspected it was less because of the actual fencing part and more because we wanted to do something with Ventus; to understand this sport that made the blond boy glisten.

When the session ended, Ventus came bounding up, bubbling glee and he flipped up the headpiece thing that protected him, bearing down Vanitas with his cheeky grin. Maybe it was through a wave of unwanted jealously because Ventus was smiling so hard, and since he’d been feeling a little down lately, that he pursed his lips and flicked his joyous friend in the forehead. Ventus was on such a high that he didn’t even notice.

“That was so _fun!_ ” Ventus tittered as he wriggled out of the uniform, swinging the helmet around in his left hand by the cloth. “Did you see me? Did you watch me? Did you see how I totally pushed that guy back a little- he was so much taller than I was!”

“Maybe it’s a good thing you’re so small then,” Vanitas smirked and waved a hand over Ventus’ head as if gauging his height, “It’ll make you harder to hit.”

“Maybe- _heyyyy_ I’m not small! You’ve just… grown a little recently!”

“Yeah and you haven’t. Maybe you’re just gonna stop growing now and be small forever like a little dwarf.”

Ventus shook a little with an emotion that was a cute blend of mock despair and diluted anger, when his blond spikes- which had already been flattened by the helmet were mussed up by a large offending hand.

“I don’t know Ven, you haven’t grown at all since I’ve known you. Maybe you need to drink more milk, so you can grow up to be big and strong. Like me,” Terra came up from behind them, wrapped up in his white dobok, fastened by a blood red belt that he wore with pride.

Ventus lit up so insanely bright; if they’d been outside, anyone might’ve mistaken Ventus for a star. In a fantastic demonstration as to why she shouldn’t concurrently take up rugby, he affectionately tackled Terra around the waist but came up short.

Vanitas grimaced, whether from the blinding light or the existence of Terra he didn’t know.

They emerged out from the underground into the late afternoon sun. Vanitas’ mood was fluctuating more than his heart rate would show if displayed on an electrocardiograph.

On one hand, Vanitas expected to be lamenting his inability to start fencing with Ventus; he knew without a shadow of a doubt if he asked his father the old man he would just laugh in his face. Terra didn’t help by not shutting up about how his grading was in a week either, and Vanitas pulled his hood up over his ears to try and block out his voice.

But when Ventus was bubbling at him about how much he enjoyed the session, it inspired him with a long lost courage he’d thought was dead in a ditch somewhere.

He told Ventus that he wanted to go fencing too.

The smile that cracked on his innocent face was a reward in of itself.

* * *

Of course, he didn’t even _bother_ asking his father. It was a foolish attempt to pre-emptively stave off the disappointment and retain Ventus’ happy high a little longer.

The next day was as warm and sunny as the last, a Tuesday by any other name- and Vanitas was regretfully grounded from his delightful floating amongst the clouds, when he spent the afternoon at Eraqus’ after school. He’d been all but dragged there by Ventus, who was super excited that Vanitas would be joining him in fencing and he wanted to show him some of the positions. Vanitas didn’t have the heart to deny him.

Secrets, Vanitas had found- were a delicacy akin to poison and keeping them inside of him instead of expelling it like he should, hurt. Ventus deserved to know he couldn’t afford to join fencing with him- but he didn’t want to see Ventus’ sad expression when the bubble finally did pop.

All good things though, had to come to an end.

“Ventus,” Vanitas had suddenly blurted out, and the tension of the sudden silence as Ventus stopped his lunges began to choke the words in his throat.

“Yeah?” Ventus asked expectantly and flopped down onto the sofa next to Vanitas with a sigh. He was cautious in his approach to cuddling up to the raven, and carefully wrapped his tired form around Vanitas’ arm in a warm embrace.

The strength to destroy this was fading fast, and Vanitas had to press deeply into his own wrist until the pain made him gasp out words.

“I don’t think I'm going to have enough money to start fencing,” He scratched out and shivered as the boy that was vined around his arm looked up at him with a raised eyebrow.

“What do you mean?”

Vanitas winced and wriggled out of Ventus’ grasp- who padded at the empty space where Vanitas had once been, mourning the loss of warmth. “I mean that I can’t- I don’t think I can start fencing because it costs money and I don’t have money.”

Clearly it wasn’t computing with Ventus’ brain, but that was to be expected. Unfortunately, being a child of the state, he had never been allowed to have any spending money of his own; everything had always been bought for him. Even now that he’d been fostered, Eraqus, the rich old fart gifted the boy everything he demanded. Vanitas might’ve been convinced the boy had never bought anything in his life. Perhaps he thought money grew on trees.

“Well… I guess we just have to get some more then!” He giggled like it was just that easy.

Vanitas just sighed and brought his knees up to his chest, back to chewing his tongue and looking down with a sad frown, “This isn’t a Disney film. I can’t just… sing a song and it’ll just- magically appear in front of us. People have to work to get money.”

Ventus wrinkled his nose, “Work? Like homework? Like _maths?_ ”

“No like a job. Like my father used to work in an office, or like being a teacher or a fencing instructor or… a policeman.”

“Ohhh like a grownup’s job. Mr Eraqus apparently _owns a business_ or whatever that means as his job, and that’s why he’s on his computer in the office all the time. _Oooh_ I’ve always _wanted_ to have a grownup job and wear a fancy suit and drive a car to work. We should get a _job_ Vanitas!” Ventus babbled and rolled off the sofa and onto the floor, gesturing with his hands at the ceiling.

Vanitas looked down at him sadly. If it was that easy to just ‘get a job’ to earn money then Vanitas would have one already. Money was tight in his household now that Xehanort no longer worked and they had to get by on the flimsy unemployment benefits the government tossed their way.

Xehanort had explained to Vanitas the meticulous inner workings of society and how it all hinged on those with power. Almost all jobs wobbled on the balances curated by people that were higher up on the food chain, and the timer that ticked down in seconds until your redundancy was a stylised pocket watch for those who had the leisure of playing around with other people’s livelihoods. End quote: Xehanort got philosophical when complaining about things like that, and it had only gotten worse after his redundancy.

Vanitas was only eight years old; he didn’t even know if it was _legal_ for him to get a job. He’d tried, but every shopkeeper or businessperson he’d spoken to had either cooed at him or laughed in his face.

“Kids like us can’t get jobs,” Vanitas hummed glumly, and gently prodded his finger on Ventus’ outstretched palm and swirled it around, lost in thought. Ventus had been holding out his hand in a bid to have Vanitas pull him up off the floor, and pulled at the raven’s hand who tumbled down next to him.

“Ow!”

“Oh! Sorry. Here…-” Ventus gently rolled Vanitas around on the carpet, as he writhed a little as his body pressed against the floor. He’d landed on the TV remote and they both jumped as it switched on without warning.

Their conversation tapered off as they continued to lie there on the floor and gaze up at the TV screen upside down. It was another TV show that Xehanort watched, something called the _Antiques Roadshow_ where people bought odd little ornaments and sold them in an auction to the highest bidder. This was one show Vanitas didn’t mind watching with his father actually, since it was miraculously tame in comparison, and the bald old man didn’t scream things at the screen when people did something he disliked.

It was a rerun, and Vanitas had already seen it to know the blond girl Ella would manage to sell the glass slippers for a high price; he only remembered it because of how alike it was to Ventus’ favourite Disney movie _Cinderella_.

Suddenly, the blond bolted up into a seated position, and wobbled a bit as all the blood rushed to his head. Vanitas lifted his head to eye him cynically, but the boy just flumped on top of Vanitas so that they were face to face.

“I got it!” He exclaimed.

“Got… what? The old couple aren’t going to win, if that’s what you’re thinking.”

“What? No-” Ventus sighed and sat on his heels, “I mean, we can get you money by selling things we don’t want to people!”

Vanitas was now trapped under Ventus, and his eyes widened with a mixture of surprise and cynicism, “Sell… sell our what now?”

“Our _things_ Vanitas. Like old ornaments or clothes that don’t fit anymore or old maths books to kids in the year below us… stuff like that!”

Vanitas lay there and ruminated over that for almost a solid minute. The idea wasn’t… _horrible_ per se, but Vanitas didn’t _have_ anything to sell, much less anything somebody would actually want. If he so much as moved Xehanort’s old china ornaments from above the fireplace he’s certain he’d be screamed at until the man’s throat gave out. He also didn’t have any clothes that _did_ fit really, still having threads that were age 5-6 that his father said he could still squeeze into because he was so skinny.

He could, but that defeated the purpose if they were too ratty to function as clothes.

“We could… but we’d have to sell all of your stuff, or Eraqus’ stuff,” He intoned and rolled his eyes in a sarcastic manner, “Since I don’t have anything.”

Most kids would have groaned and complained about having to give up their stuff, and indeed that was what Vanitas had initially assumed. Ventus meant that he would have to sell his own stuff to get money for himself so that he could start fencing. Then again, this was Ventus and by now he should’ve known better than to underestimate him.

“Of _course_ my stuff you silly, it was my idea. Ooh I have this really pretty _Princess and the Frog_ little… china thingy that I got from Mr. Mickey for my fifth birthday, I bet somebody would love that!” Ventus grinned gleefully and shone down on Vanitas like the sun had peeked out from behind the clouds. His heart jumped at the boy’s bright smile.

The raven was too surprised at the Ventus’ selflessness that he couldn’t say anything. He really wanted to sell _his_ stuff, his prized possessions for Vanitas’ sake?

“Oh! And people love food stalls too! We could have another go at baking brownies again, whaddya say? Aqua made these really yummy chocolate chip cookies last week as well, I'm sure she wouldn’t mind helping us out!”

Vanitas winced, “Um, no. I’m not giving my food to other people, that’s… that’s awful why would you _do_ that?”

Apparently Ventus hadn’t heard him and leaned down even closer to Vanitas until he was right in his face, “-And you can make sandwiches like you always do for your packed lunch cause sandwiches are tasty. Ooh and then we could make a big cake and cut slices off and the inside can look all cool and a different colour like on TV!”

“N-no, Ventus,” Vanitas had intended his words to be harsh, since the boy was now fully on top of him and their faces were centimetres apart. They had done this before, and it had never bothered him, but in light of recent events that had changed Vanitas’ life quite drastically, he found himself unable to breathe.

He froze up, trapped. Desperately, he tried to worm his way out of Ventus’ grasp, but all his motor functions failed him as he was playfully pinned down to the woven beige carpet that was beneath the pair which decorated the floor of Eraqus’ lounge. It was a different colour to the dark navy, and peppered with bitty dirt and fluff that you couldn’t remove of Xehanort’s lounge floor, but Vanitas’ vision blurred when the creeping sense of dread crawled up his skin, and it all began to look the same.

He couldn’t move he couldn’t move _he couldn’t_ _move._

Vaguely, he thought that Ventus began to talk to him again, but his vision was so blurred, and his chest hurt so much that all sound became a dull ringing in his ears that morphed into gunshots and screaming and shouting. Panic reverberated around his brain and hit every internal surface, infesting his mind with fear.

Luckily, his panic attack only lasted a short while as Ventus had the sense to leap off as Vanitas began to hyperventilate.

Vanitas didn’t remember the entire chronological sequence of events that happened next; there were a few black spots in his memory that he later filled in with Ventus’ worried crying and Eraqus’ concerned face as the man scrambled around his obnoxiously large lounge for a paper bag for Vanitas to breathe into.

After maybe five or so minutes, Vanitas was moderately calm again, and comforting a wilted Ventus on the settee. Eraqus watched over them like a hawk.

“I'm sorry,” Ventus squeaked for the thousandth time, “I just thought that maybe you were doing a little better after… what happened a few months ago since you let me touch you now. I’m so sorry I swear I didn’t _mean it-”_

“It’s _fine Ventus,_ ” Vanitas sighed, “I _told you,_ I'm just a little jumpy nowadays.”

Ventus sniffed, rubbing his nose and wiping away all the snot that was running from it, “Yeah, okay. Can… can I have a hug?”

Vanitas really _really_ didn’t want to deny him. He loved Ventus’ hugs, they were possibly his favourite thing in the whole world, but also literally the last thing he needed right now.

Eraqus ambled over and sank down next to Ventus, wrapping a long arm around the blond in a soothing gesture, which he quickly curled into.

“Maybe later, okay Ven? Vanitas has just been going through a few things recently, and he needs a little bit of space for a while, so don’t go jumping on him,” Eraqus said calmly, and stroked Ventus’ spikes away from his sullen face as he looked down and nodded.

Vanitas tuned Eraqus out halfway through what he said. It had suddenly dawned on him that Eraqus… _knew._ Of course he did _,_ Eraqus had to know _everything_ that had been going on in Vanitas’ life for the past month, knew what he’d been dealing with, what he’d had to handle.

His mouth fell open in shock.

_Why?_

In the end, Eraqus ended up paying for Vanitas’ first fencing lesson, out of what Vanitas could only surmise to be guilt. Ventus regained some of his excitement and was delighted to show Vanitas the positions and how to parry and lunge and all that before the meet on Monday, even if he was a little disappointed that he didn’t get to enact his food/antique/clothes stall idea. Later in the year Eraqus had the family do a car-boot-sale that managed to satisfy the boy.

Unfortunately, Vanitas only ended up having two fencing lessons before he quit. Even wearing the protective clothing each jab to the skin felt like a punch to the gut and he could only bottle up so much and scream it into his pillow at night before he went insane.

More than that though, he couldn’t stand to take money from Eraqus. The man must be pitying him, _pitying_ him and his situation because he obviously knew- he was Xehanort’s best friend, which was the worst part of it all.

He really, _really_ hated Eraqus, from then on- even if he refused to show it.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> thank you so much for reading!! it took a hot minute to release this, since my report deadline snuck up on me without warning. uni man, why you do this.  
> hope you are all having a wonderful february so far, and that the rest of it to come is just as amazing~! :D


	7. just doing the chores, like cooking and cleaning

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> the seventh part
> 
> \-- in which Ventus and his family goes on holiday. Vanitas is only a little jealous
> 
> \-- in which Vanitas is entered into a cooking competition completely against his will

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> ding~ dong~ its really fucking long~ 
> 
> i don't have a clue why this is 9k words long. it was an accident, i think. im going to have to go back and cut this because its really long, like obnoxiously so. 
> 
> please enjoy it. might have to pace yourself for this one though

**_CHAPTER SEVEN_ **

just doing the chores, like cooking and cleaning

_past_

Vanitas had made comfortable peace with the fact he would always be near Ventus. The boy was his ray of sunshine, a golden statue that he would be content with just praying to each and every day if it meant he could be happy. Just by being by his side Vanitas felt warm and safe, like Ventus would supply his every need with a gorgeous smile that dazzled him into next week.

Ventus’ happiness was infectious; Vanitas could be having the worst day, and Ventus comes bounding up to him bathed in fucking heavens’ light, giggling about something stupid like a dumbass TV show he was binging- and Vanitas’ bad mood would just melt away.

If there was any good in Xehanort’s dull, honestly quite fascist teachings, it would be the one which claimed ‘not all men are created equal; some are objectively better than others’. Some had blessings from ‘their parents’ (Ventus said that blessings were from God) which just made them superior than others. But all had faults- and no one was perfect.

Vanitas believed in this in the same way he believed most things his father said. He knew that he had a considerable number of flaws himself, and he was appointed the job of festering at the bottom of Xehanort’s dumb ‘social pyramid scheme’ that he kept on the wall in their lounge.

In comparison to him, or Xehanort- Ventus with his very few flaws could basically be considered perfect; or at least the closest you could get in Vanitas’ eyes.

It kind of made Vanitas happier than he knew how to process, and thus he just resorted to staying as near to Ventus as he could, not wanting the feelings to go away.

Of course, this was difficult during times like holidays where Vanitas was borderline barricaded into his own home with Xehanort, who chose to do nothing with his time except mould his crumpled old man form into the sofa and watch the television. Currently he was on a _Game of Thrones_ curve; a very violent show that Vanitas really didn’t like- but was forced to watch anyway.

So, Vanitas wanted to make up this year for not being able to spend time with Ventus, by buying him a gift. Now, Vanitas was perpetually poor, to the point where he would (metaphorically) jump for joy when he found dirty one pence pieces in the street and collected them in a bottle. They would all add up eventually.

He wanted to buy something for Ventus that the blond would truly appreciate, something that would genuinely make a difference in his life.

One day during one of Xehanort’s what seemed to be _daily_ toilet breaks, he saw an advert on the TV of a foul-tasting remedy for people who bit their nails too much and he instantly knew it was what he needed. It was £5.99 though, so Vanitas was going to have to break into his _secret store_ of money. Hidden away in a Russian doll which was in a box inside a box under his bed- was a £2 coin, concealed from Xehanort who would undoubtedly squander his funds on more scratch cards.

Unfortunately, they didn’t sell it in any of the stores he looked in and Xehanort wouldn’t have ordered it online for him even if Vanitas threatened to set the house on fire, so he was reduced to asking Eraqus to buy it for him. Vanitas didn’t like Eraqus at all, but he was Ventus’ beloved dad so he reluctantly put up with him.

Vanitas had rudely shoved the collection of muddy brown coins into Eraqus’ old-man hands and threatened that if the man didn’t buy it for him, he would personally dig up all of the flowers in his prized front garden- and then break into his back garden to do the same. And then pee on them.

Eraqus had just laughed at him. He bought it for him of course. Outrageously, he even tried to give the money back to Vanitas- who refused angrily and threw the bottle of diligently collected coppers back in his face. After it had arrived, Eraqus sneakily slid the package to Vanitas under the table during his tri-monthly visit to their home, when he was making sure Xehanort didn’t kill himself. Vanitas guessed he appreciated the sly gesture- even if he’d _never_ admit it.

He badly wrapped it up in a month-old newspaper- because like fuck could he afford expensive shiny wrapping paper, and nervously presented it to his best friend on the last day of school.

Ventus had always gotten him a gift, usually it being the super expensive _Green and Black’s_ chocolate he loved so much. This year he was additionally blessed with a handwritten poem- which was detailed on Vanitas’ appearance, and decorated with cutely drawn decal like hearts and stars. It made Vanitas’ brain tingle but also feel so much pain and pressure behind his eyes that he didn’t understand. Despite it all, the warmth resided in his whole body and made him shiver for at least three days after.

When he nervously offered Ventus his gift, Vanitas had stammered and flushed a deep red, resulting to chewing at his thumb- which made Ventus laugh and throw his arms tightly around Vanitas, whispering a million thankyous. Vanitas was so swept up in the revelation that Ventus liked his small present that he was wholly unprepared for the kiss that Ventus pecked against his cheek before scurrying away to hide in the toilets for close to an hour.

Vanitas didn’t know what kisses were, since the TV didn’t belong to him and Xehanort didn’t watch romance movies, but the feeling on his cheek was wonderful so he counted it as a good thing.

After Ventus came crawling back from his hideaway, he revealed he would be going to somewhere called Florida for the Christmas holidays with his family. An actual holiday away from home. Vanitas had never had one- and didn’t really want one- content to being in the same place that Ventus was.

Curious in what Ventus had meant, Vanitas (completely illegally) snuck onto the school’s staff computer in the late afternoon during their religious year six teacher’s break to pray, and found that Florida _was on the other side of the world._

America, the place where Xehanort idolised for whatever reason, was not only apparently 7 hours behind them, but was also a _10 hour travel to even get there_ and Ventus had to go on an airplane. Xehanort called airplanes government created death-traps disguised as well-meaning commercial transport, which had set Vanitas’ heart off in a dangerous pounding rhythm in his chest.

He didn’t think he could handle being 10 hours away from Ventus.

So naturally, Vanitas begged him not to go. Yet Ventus, Aqua, Terra and even stupid old Eraqus were so excited to go, and had their hearts firmly set on it. Even when Vanitas snuck his way onto Eraqus’ laptop to cancel it himself, he’d found it’d been booked several months in advance and the hefty cancellation fee made Vanitas’ head spin. He wouldn’t subject that to anyone, not even Eraqus.

Apparently Eraqus was a very wealthy man, amassing a great deal of money from fostering, and later adopting three kids. Plus there was some kind of discount he could get for all four of them being in some sort of system- so the whole thing ended up being cheap enough that the family could enjoy their winter holidays on a hot beach in the sun.

Vanitas didn’t know how he was going to survive without _his_ sun.

One week in, he received a postcard from Ventus. He didn’t believe he’d ever given the blond his address, but it’d probably just been Eraqus that told him. Hopefully Ventus wouldn’t remember it.

The postcard depicted the four of them, all in swimwear posing under a very beautiful sunset; painting a gorgeous picture behind them. They were standing on a white beach, covered in flecks of sand- which clumped heavily around Ventus’ feet and legs; evidence that he’d been playing in the water. His trunks were a bright green, and he wore a stereotypical Hawaiian shirt that was completely unbuttoned, revealing his defined chest built from all his fencing. Vanitas’ mouth went quite dry at the sight.

Of course Ventus had a big, beautiful smile on his face- clearly still the happiest person on earth, surrounded by his loving family that would clearly give him the world just as Vanitas would.

Flipping the card around he scrutinized the words Ventus had scrawled there in his chicken-scratch handwriting. ‘ _Dear Vanitas_ ,’ it said, ‘ _Florida’s great! It’s so hot here and the beach is amazing! Aqua, Terra, ~~Mist~~ Eraqus and I are staying in a really fancy hotel that overlooks the beach! We’re travelling down south to visit Disneyland tomorrow, and I’m so excited to go! Though, I miss you so much. I wish you were here. I can’t wait to see you when I get back! Love From, Ventus. xxxxxxxxxxx’_

Vanitas wasn’t allowed to cry, and had always been led to believe that people cried over negative things- which was why it was pathetic. Ventus cried a lot, and it was typically because something bad had happened to him. So when the pressure started building behind his eyes again he was beyond confused, and stuffed his head in his pillow for the remainder of the evening to quash any lingering feelings. 

Still, the postcard made him overwhelmingly happy, to the point where he sported an unnerving smile throughout the next day that had _Xehanort_ moderately concerned for his health as he skipped around the kitchen making his dinner of sweet potato wedges.

Ventus came back in early January, and Vanitas noticed that his skin had tanned considerably. He looked similar to Sora, and apparently had adopted some of the brunet’s hyperactivity as Ventus hadn’t stopped bouncing around the classroom, eager to tell everyone about his fortnight in the states.

Vanitas was content to just sit and listen. Somehow Ventus had gotten much nicer to look at.

Whilst he liked listening to Ventus’ gallivanting adventures, Vanitas couldn’t help but find himself a little jealous, wishing he could go on a relaxing holiday of his own. ‘Of his own’ meaning a holiday consisting of he and Ventus, since like hell was he going with Ventus’ family and _God forbid_ Xehanort leave his house.

Four months later, he kind of got his wish.

It wasn’t Florida- a hot beach near the castle of dreams in Orlando- it wasn’t even out of the country, really. It was in _Wales-_ on the biggish island the branched off of it called Anglesey, where apparently Eraqus owned a holiday home that he’d never told Ventus about until today.

They were to drive an hour west into no-man’s-land, probably through fields and muddy ditches and across the Menai Straight to what Aqua was trying to describe to Ventus as a mysterious island that not many dared to enter due to its dangerous high tides and towns with ridiculously stupid names that you would chew your tongue off trying to pronounce. Somehow, despite Ventus being now eleven years old, it was working on him.

She was leaning down and showing Ventus the name of an absurdly long town that Vanitas wouldn’t be able to pronounce even if he dedicated ten years solely to doing so, yet Aqua floored it with her first try. Terra looked at her like she’d revealed herself to be an alien and spoken with her mother tongue and Eraqus burst into laughter. Vanitas felt even grouchier as he kicked a few rocks by his feet.

“Llanfairpwyy- _what?”_ Ventus griped and snatched the phone from Aqua’s outstretched hand and glared at it like it was the source of all his problems, “Llanfairpwllgwyn… hagh, this is _ridiculous_ it can’t be real. Who _names_ a real place something like that?”

“The Welsh apparently,” Eraqus simpered, eyeing Vanitas’ glare. He was sinking lower into the ground, hoping to run away and avoid the situation but the old man was keeping his eyes trained on him. Eraqus had come to the primary school with Aqua and Terra in tow to pick up his youngest child. Since Ventus wouldn’t be able to walk home with him, he’d been offered a lift back which Vanitas immediately shot down. Why would he accept Eraqus’ help now of all times, after years and years of silence?

Aqua repeated off a slew of nonsensical syllables perfectly and brushed down her royal blue high-school uniform like she’d somehow gotten it dirty. She was always immaculate, so it was probably an act of pride.

Terra dropped his head into his hands, “Alright alright, you’re making my head spin. We’re going to Anglesey in the Easter holidays and we’re staying in your holiday home.”

“Yes, yes,” Eraqus turned to Vanitas who glowered at him, but he just smiled sympathetically, “We’re only going for one week this time, but I've spoken with Xehanort and I would like to extend the invitation for you to come and join us, Vanitas.”

The two primary school students blinked up, “What?” They said simultaneously.

“Do you want to come with us on holiday to Angelsey, Vanitas? It would be for a week.”

Vanitas wanted to shoot him down with a hard pass, solely to irritate Eraqus, but he really, _really_ wanted to go. A week away with Ventus sounded like a dream, away from Xehanort- and being with Ventus could overshadow the cons of Aqua, Terra and Eraqus being there.

As Vanitas nodded, Ventus- who’d been looking at him intensely waiting for an answer, jumped on his back in the way he knew how to do it as not to hurt Vanitas and squealed in his ear. Vanitas turned his head to see Ventus’ glowing face, complete with a dazzling smile, and eyes squeezed shut as he laughed with joy. Ventus nuzzled Vanitas’ neck, making his whole body do an odd wriggle.

Slowly, Vanitas reached up, muttering, “eyelash,” and blew it off of the blond’s flushed cheeks. “Make a wish,” he’d said and Ventus hummed a little as he deliberated over his wish. Vanitas knew he wasn’t supposed to, but he had a little wish too, that this holiday with Ventus would be the best week of his life.

* * *

Spring rolled around as a big four wheeled Range Rover that ploughed right into Vanitas’ stomach before he could see it coming. He didn’t know that Eraqus owned such a big expensive car or _why_ he even needed one since even a regular 5 seater would fit his four-person family. Yet the heated seven-seat green monstrosity with raised fucking feet platforms trundled up to his dingy bungalow in an even dingier neighbourhood, where people would likely sell their souls to even sit in the car’s driver’s seat. Failing that it would just get smashed up. Nice cars don’t last an hour in this area.

Xehanort hadn’t helped him pack because of course he hadn’t, but grumped something about getting him a souvenir before turning back to the TV to watch a familiar re-run of _Blackadder._ He never laughed at it, despite it being a comedy.

Vanitas’ bag was criminally small in comparison to the other’s large suitcases, and it made the open expanse of the car seem almost hostile. He wrinkled his nose in revulsion and curled into his knees in the back seat.

Ventus was beyond excited, shifting and jumping around in his seat every thirty seconds, swinging his legs back and forth as he poured over one of the three maps they had laid out over the backseat. He scribbled all over them in various fluorescent markers, highlighting numerous walking routes they would take, or drawing big bright sunshines over beaches, and cows mooing in fields. Vanitas just watched him with a smile, Ventus was so cute.

It was a long and arduous journey of two hours in a car that smelled like clean towels- apparently a _Yankee Candle_ air freshener for the car that Eraqus had bought, they arrived at a very quaint little cottage about a mile from the sea. Vanitas could instantaneously tell it was Eraqus’ by the variety of blooming flowers that decorated the front garden and wound their ways around the front gate.

Aqua seemed to recognise it, but Terra did not, and she led them inside whilst concurrently carrying 3 bags of luggage in a way Vanitas thought impossible for any human with two arm-like appendages.

After they got settled and unpacked, they walked down to the beach. It was a sight for sore eyes, even in the mildly cold weather did the sun come peeking out of the small grey clouds to shine a mystical pattern on the sea- the shadow of the cliffs it was setting behind.

Out of the corner of his eye he spied Ventus chuck his shoes off the boardwalk and dash down into the sand dunes. Sand sprayed up backwards as he stumbled down, it flying into Terra’s mouth who was dumb enough to follow Ventus down hot on his heels. The pair raced into the sea, then screeched and ran straight back out of it again, like they’d somehow forgotten it would be cold and not at all like Florida.

Something gave way behind Vanitas and a beam of light illuminated the pair; though his eyes were trained solely on Ventus, his golden hair suddenly a flame dancing around in the water as he shivered and splashed his older brother with water. Terra splashed him back and the blond yelped, jumping up and down whilst shaking himself like a wet dog.

“You can join them you know,” Eraqus apparated behind him and was reclined on a red sunbed, “The sand can’t feel good in your shoes. Toss them here and go wash it off in the sea. Careful though, it’s a bit chilly.”

Vanitas didn’t need to be told twice, and after freeing himself of his tight cramped shoes, he sprinted across the beach and into the sea, kicking up a tidal wave of salty water that drenched Terra who Ventus had been hiding behind. That initiated an all-out war that resulted in three sopping wet children who had to be escorted back to the cottage bundled in at least three towels each in order to stave off hypothermia.

Vanitas was unable to get the picture of Ventus’ happy smiling face out of his mind, even as he lay down next to him that night, both wrapped up in numerous blankets and the heating full blast. They were sharing a double-bed which was more than enough for the pair of them, yet Vanitas felt so cramped and hot.

He’d never shared a bed with anybody before, and even with _Ventus_ he didn’t like it. Ventus was _so hot,_ and not in the attractive way- as in his body was a freaking furnace and he rolled around too often like he was unable to get comfy. The bed was unbelievably soft, and it felt like Vanitas was sinking into it as he lay there, and it made his stomach go all curly-wurly.

The next day, they took a trip into the town, and milled around the nearest local stores and tourist centres. Vanitas rumbled around the loose change in his pockets as he ruminated over the gifts to buy in the souvenir store. He chose a stylised fridge magnet for Xehanort with the town’s ridiculously long name painted across it and nothing else. Welsh names were so stupid.

There was a postcard stand, and with the remainder of his savings he bought a card that depicted a stunning sunset of the beach they had played at the previous day. When they got back to the cottage he tried to write on it but couldn’t find the words.

Ventus walked into the room and peered over his shoulder, “A postcard?”

“Mmm yeah.”

“You sending it to Mr. Xehan… wait no that’s to me, why are you writing a postcard to _me_ when I'm right here with you?”

Vanitas didn’t blink, “Because when you sent me that card from America it made me really _really_ happy. Maybe it was the words you wrote in it, or it was the thought of you sending one or whatever but it meant a hell of a lot to me. I want to be able to make you happy like that too, so this is the least I could- _oomph!”_

Ventus latched himself onto his best friend and hugged him warmly, head settled nicely and breathing into Vanitas’ shoulder the way that he really liked. A little wet feeling on his skin accompanied with a whimper told him Ventus was crying again, and this time he couldn’t fathom why since he thought he was doing a nice thing.

The raven wrapped his arms around his best friend who was breathing deeply into his shoulder, nuzzling Vanitas’ neck again in the way that made him feel lightheaded. So lightheaded he missed a few choice words Ventus decided to spill, and wouldn’t repeat when asked, but the pair were content in just falling back into the bed and snuggling there for a short while.

The pair remained that way for the remainder of evening. Vanitas hazily awoke the next morning woke up right in Ventus’ face and got a full unabashed view of his serene sleeping expression. Maybe it was a bit weird, but Vanitas really enjoyed just lying there and watching Ventus sleep, with no worries flitting across his face every other thought.

Unsurprisingly, Vanitas _loved_ almost every second of their holiday, it being such a different and new experience to him. It was odd at first, not having to go to the shops himself to buy food to cook for dinner, and not being allowed to do the washing (he’d tried but couldn’t get a handle on the modern looking laundrette they had in this odd town with a stupidly long name).

Eraqus had tried to cook for him again, but he shot him down with such venom it was a wonder he didn’t end up poisoning his own food with his animosity. The ingredients that the kitchen boasted were very expensive though, and Vanitas felt a little awkward just using them.

Above all, like he’d wanted, he’d been able to spend time with Ventus. The boy loved his holidays, he loved his walks around the countryside, he loved burying Terra in the sands, he loved barbecuing vegetarian tofu skewers for Aqua to try, he loved to sing in the shower. Vanitas loved learning all these new things about Ventus’ home life.

It wasn’t until he walked in on Ventus, Terra and Eraqus watching TV in the lounge that it hit him even harder than the metaphorical Range Rover had, he was _living_ with them, even if it was just for a short while. Maybe it wasn’t Xehanort sitting on the sofa, with his lazy golden eyes boring into the screen, and the show was instead _The Chase,_ a more modern quiz show that Xehanort disliked as he called it _pretentious_ and boastful- but it was still happening.

He raced into the utility cupboard and snatched up an old _Henry_ that he’d seen at the caretakers use school a few times when he’d stayed behind to hide from the rain. He plugged it in and began diligently hoovering up the place, cursing himself that he’d gotten so lax with his chores. He didn’t want to, but he might have to beg Eraqus not to tell his father later.

As he stepped into the lounge, he made sure to try and muffle the loud noise of the vacuum in a way Xehanort had showed him and mumbled a muted ‘sorry’ to the inhabitants who all turned to look at him as he entered.

Ventus was the first to break the mould, “You don’t have to hoover Vanitas, we literally just did it yesterday and there’s no way it’s gotten dusty that fast.”

Vanitas turned to him and gave him a flat look, “Look I know you wanna get back to watching that- I get it but I just gotta give the room a once over. I… I apologise for not having done it earlier.”

Ventus looked incredibly confused and looked over at his father, who looked extremely uncomfortable. Terra also looked a little funny but didn’t say anything and began moving all of the furniture off of the floor so Vanitas to get to it easier.

“Terra, no!” Ventus argued and tried to wrestle a small coffee table from him, but his strength was exceedingly inferior to the brick wall that was Terra, and it just slipped out of his hands, “Why are you helping him? The lounge doesn’t need a hoover- its spick and span, we just cleaned it.”

“Vanitas always hoovers,” Terra’s tone was uncertain, but he didn’t stop what he was doing, “Just let him Ven, he won’t be long.”

“What? No-”

“Every room needs to be hoovered every day,” Vanitas said robotically like he was reciting badly from script. He cocked the suction cup in a very rhythmic and practiced way to remove dust blocking the hole, “Sorry it took me a few days to get on it… I was just a little disoriented from the new surroundings.”

“That’s alright Vanitas,” Eraqus’ voice was very strained, and his face was losing its colour quicker than he could finish his words, “I won’t tell your father. This place hasn’t had many people in it anyway so there hasn’t been any need.”

Vanitas nodded and Terra fell back into the sofa, but Ventus was nearing outrage, “What is the matter with you both? We’ve gone weeks without hoovering sometimes back home and it’s been fine!” He marched over to Vanitas and tried to pull the head from his hands, “Vanitas, just give- give it _here_ you don’t have to clean-”

His grip loosened as he looked into Vanitas’ eyes, which were borderline in a panic. Vanitas wrenched the head from Ventus in very methodical motions, “No…no…no you don’t understand you’ve just gotta let me do it, I _have to,_ okay? I’m sorry I interrupted your show fa- Ventus but it’s just got to be done- it’ll take like two minutes-”

Vanitas’ mumbling became inaudible, but was bordering on desperation as he shifted around the room and brushed the hoover head around every surface. Ventus just gaped at him, stunned as Eraqus and Terra both shuffled furniture as Vanitas got near to them. It suddenly clicked in the blond’s head that both of them had definitely done this for Vanitas before.

Of course… both of them had been to Vanitas and Xehanort’s house before. But he hadn’t. Ventus had never been and in fact everyone, including Vanitas had kept him from going there at every opportunity. As Vanitas finished hoovering he moved onto dusting and window cleaning, but Eraqus had the sense to lead Ventus away at that point and attempt to engross him in learning the names of all the flowers in the front garden.

Ventus didn’t forget though, no matter how hard his family tried to keep him away from Vanitas when he shut down and suddenly morphed into house-maid for a good few hours. In fact, Vanitas got very distressed when he wasn’t able to clean or do any chores, like on the day where they’d gone for a day hike up the Snowdonia mountain and not gotten back until late and he forgot. He’d woken them both up at 3am because he suddenly remembered he didn’t clean that evening and Ventus had to wrap him up in a full-body hug to get him to calm down again because he had a panic attack.

Ventus was so sad when Vanitas got like this. He knew it was probably Xehanort’s stupid fault, who _else’s_ would it be. He’d never been to Vanitas’ house before, and he felt that his visit to see where his best friend lived was long overdue.

As it turns out, doing so was a decision he’d regret for years and years to come.

* * *

_present_

When Vanitas said he had no dreams in life, he wasn’t lying.

He didn’t see the point of aspiring toward something, when he couldn’t _possibly_ predict the future to see how the world was going to make it difficult for him.

Sure, he’d had wishes and desires. He’d wished upon a star once that he and Ventus would remain ‘the bestest friends forever’- and except after their little blip earlier their bond was as strong as ever.

He’d blamed their little spat though, on his wish, since he’d always been warned by his father growing up that he should never rely on forces out of his own control when it came to his life choices. Or things would inevitably go disastrously wrong and he wouldn’t be able to do anything about it- making him look weak and foolish.

Said words were repeated more often than the rickety alarm clock that awoke him every morning; they were seared rather forcefully into his brain. He had to be tough and strong or he’d be a waste of time.

Yet his most useful hobbies, of cooking and cleaning weren’t really all that tough, or strong, or _masculine_ at all. In fact they were stereotypically feminine of all things and Ventus often mocked him about it. He couldn’t help what he was good at though, but he could hide it.

He struggled to hide things from Ventus however, spending nearly all of his time in school with the blond- whom he’d known for something stupid like 9 years now and could always pick up on tells. Vanitas could pick up on tells too, and when Ventus spent a good portion of a month lamenting the fact that Ephemer was a taken man and dropped out of the football team, he comforted him.

So _why_ was he surprised in any way when Ventus rolled up one day and began waving a flyer in his face about a cooking competition taking place at their school- and wanted him to enter it.

 _“No_ Ventus,” He griped for what felt like the ninth time that day, tossing his sandwich that was floppy and dry in the bin as they walked past, appetite suddenly lost, “I’m not participating in a fucking _cooking competition.”_

Ventus moved the wafer thin paper out of his face with a pout, “Why? Explain to me why you won’t do it.”

Vanitas looked incredulous, almost offended, looking at Ventus like he’d suddenly sprouted another head from the back of his neck, “What… what part of you, in all the time you have spent with me believes that this would be something I would _ever_ want to do?”

Ventus clocked his head to the side and thought about it for a moment, “Hmm. I just… saw it on the wall and I thought, wow that sounds like something that Vanitas would be really good at!”

The raven sighed in disbelief and pretended to examine Ventus’ head mockingly in search for possible brain damage. “ _Why?_ What possible reason could you have for thinking that? Do I really look that weak?”

Vanitas gripped Ventus’ face and the blond’s eyes widened as they homed in on Vanitas’ frowning expression. He began to chew his lip a little, and Vanitas thought it looked rather adorable.

“U-um no…?” He spluttered and hunched up his shoulders in a more defensive stance, “You… you’re always cooking! You cook your own lunches for yourself even if you ‘forget’ to bring them to school sometimes, and you’ve told me before that you always cook your own dinners- and I doubt you would even _eat_ them if they tasted bad. You’re picky.”

“I am _not_ picky. And what kind of reason is that? Of course I cook- I need to consume nutrients to survive dumbass, if I don’t eat I’ll die. Cooking things just makes them taste less like shit.”

“That’s exactly what I mean! You can cook!”

Vanitas raised an eyebrow at him flatly and flumped into a chair next to their usual wobbly red sofa that only had two legs; crossing his legs over as he leaned against the back.

Ever since they’d managed to mend their relationship a few months prior, they’d both found that the chilled out and rather relaxed atmosphere of the top-floor design department was something they could sincerely appreciate. Plus they seemed to be two of the very few people who could stand being anywhere near Naminé for more than ten minutes, so her quiet, and cornered off area in the room second to the right became a popular hangout for them to relax during break.

Surprisingly enough, Vanitas grew to find he didn’t really mind Naminé. He’d always thought her kind of weird, quiet and creepy as she sat in the corner scribbling and not talking to anyone. Thanks to Ventus, and when Riku blatantly introduced the pair, he’d gotten to know her a little better- even if it was 100% unintentional since people (other than Ventus) were such a _hassle._

Her almost silent disposition had yet to find a way to irritate him. He supposes that was why he still stuck around.

She was there now, doodling away with a very neutral expression- not looking up when the two of them came in.

“Vanitas,” Ventus stole his attention and he turned back to the blond, who had his hands on his hips, “You must be like, one of the only people in our year who can cook.”

That was probably one of the stupidest things Ventus had ever said, “I'm sorry _what?_ The only one in our year- are you fucking stupid? Saying that is like saying I'm the only one in our year who knows how to _breathe.”_

“Careful with the way you use those words of yours,” Naminé whispered from across the room. She was just quiet enough that Vanitas couldn’t be mad at her. He hated loud noises, and she was always gentle and subdued.

“Vanitas I feel like I'm missing something here. Those who things are _completely_ unrelated. I can breathe just fine and I’ve never cooked a single thing in my life.” Ventus said dubiously then blinked, “Actually I'm lying. Aqua once taught be how to cook an omelette once. Oh God that wasn’t pretty apparently I near gave myself salmonella. And remember those brownies we made in like year three? Those were a nightmare.”

Vanitas couldn’t tell whether Ventus was being serious or not, “Are… are you fucking with me right now? Then how the hell do you _eat-_ or do you just eat everything raw?”

“Umm… M- Eraqus… cooks for me? Mostly, though Aqua’s pretty good at it too, she's started making stir-fries for us on weekends and they’re really nice.”

Vanitas’ eyes looked close to popping out of his skull.

“Terra is completely useless in the kitchen too like me… are you dying? Are you really that surprised that cooking isn’t…what- a vital part of some people’s lives?”

“ _Yes_. It’s your own personal responsibility to ensure that you’re fed. Receiving food like that from others is a sign of weakness- that you’re relying on someone else to do something for you.”

“ _How_ has this never come up before? I swear I must’ve offered you food before!” Ventus cried and began frantically searching through his backpack, “So you don’t buy food from like the takeaway- or the school cantee- _you don’t do you?”_

“No.”

For once, Naminé looked up from her pad and eyed Vanitas, surprised. Ventus looked surprised too, but it was shock of a different flavour- like he’d just realised something massive. “So… you’ve never had anybody cook something for you? _Ever?”_ She solemnly asked.

“I don’t… think so. Fuckin’- I remember Eraqus, that old piece of shit tried to cook for me while I was round at yours once- we were like 9… I think? But there was no way I’d eat food _he_ made me, he’d probably poison it.”

“How… did you learn how to cook? From a young age… did your family teach you?” Naminé’s voice was small, and she was unaware of the nerves she struck in the two boys. Vanitas didn’t have a family. All he had was Xehanort.

Ventus looked almost worried and looked down anxiously, chewing his thumb. He then remembered the flyer he was holding, “Well- that just means you’re experienced, more experienced than anybody here. You’d definitely win for sure!”

“While that may be true, _Ventus,”_ Vanitas’ voice was sour and he sighed out of his nose, “That does not mean I want to- nor care to humiliate myself by doing something so… _pathetic_ as cooking food for someone else to eat.”

Naminé shuffled over and picked up the offending leaflet, “Looks like you wouldn’t have to. Embarrass yourself I mean, because each participant is in a private kitchen. You would only have to walk out into the restaurant to present it to the chef- oh my _._ This is the… _oh my.”_

Ventus looked up at her, “What?”

“Look,” She held it out to show him and traced a line with her perfectly manicured finger, “Yes, that’s a really fancy restaurant and look at _that.”_

Ventus said nothing, but he looked considerably closer to fainting than he had.

 _“No, especially not_ if it’s in some ridiculous, high class, fucking five star bullshit place- that probably sells fucking _human skin_ to the highest paying asshole that goes there,” Vanitas spat, “You wouldn’t catch me anywhere near that shithole if you fucking paid me.”

“You would, get paid. If you won, that is. £50 actually to be exact.” Naminé pondered.

Vanitas almost fell out of his chair.

“That’s sooo much money Vanitas,” Ventus coaxed with a vixen-like smile, “Think of what you could do with that.”

Naminé looked at Ventus like he was nuts, but Vanitas began to sway like he was in a daze. £50? That was _so much money._ He could buy so much _food_ with that, he could buy cleaning stuff like dusters and antibacterial spray so that he finally, _properly_ could clean the attic windows that he’d been lying to Xehanort about maintaining.

He _needed_ to clean, and they were running dangerously low on supplies. They’d run out of anti-bac spray a month ago, and Vanitas had been refilling up the near empty bottle with water to try to prolong the solution’s life- even if it just diluted it and sapped its strength.

He was deathly afraid that the germs were beginning to pile up on surfaces; worried he might catch a disease or something since he couldn’t effectively wipe down any of the counters. Furthermore, Xehanort had thrown away all of his dusters, claiming he didn’t like the garish yellow colour of them- insisting he bought new ones, and the dust and grime was beginning to build. Sooner or later he was going to have a nervous breakdown.

“I… I could,” He tried to keep his voice as disinterested as he could and failed, to which Ventus and Naminé giggled, “I could buy more cleaning supplies, more washing detergent, more food… wait. Would I have to buy the food myself?”

Naminé nodded softly as Ventus bit his lip. Vanitas just sighed; he knew it was too good to be true. Not that he would’ve agreed because he wasn’t weak like that.

Vanitas didn’t see it, but Naminé started ruffling around in her pockets, but Ventus put a hand out to stop her warningly and shook his head.

“Vanitas… do you want-” She started but was cut off.

“-To go window shopping for food with us? I need to go and pick up some… potatoes for M- _urgh,_ for Eraqus and you can have a look to see what you would want to make.”

Vanitas’s face blossomed a fierce red as he tightened his jaw, bottom tip trembling and eyes narrowed into slits, “Ventus, don’t fuck with me like that. You _know_ I could never-”

“I said _window shopping._ The type of shopping where you don’t buy anything. Then you wouldn’t have to spend any money and would just spend some time with us. It’s good to dream a little, right?”

Vanitas originally refused, because of course he did, but Ventus headed toward their local supermarket anyway for his ‘potatoes’ that he never ended up buying- because he and Naminé sneakily bought Vanitas all of the ingredients he pointed out to them as he planned his ‘ _stupidly fancy meal’_.

What both Ventus and Naminé failed to mention was that the money wasn’t even the grand prize of the competition- it was just a bursary for the price of the ingredients money. The reward was the chance to have your food critiqued and eaten by a moderately famous TV chef. Somehow, Ventus was pretty sure that was the _last_ thing Vanitas wanted.

* * *

A half week later, as the sun dwindled on a warm Friday evening, Vanitas was cajoled by a very enthusiastic Ventus into stepping foot inside not a five star restaurant but a four to cook in the competition. Vanitas, naturally, groaned and complained about everything from the fanciness of the place to the fact that he had to cook for someone else. Ventus closed his eyes and damned Xehanort as Vanitas pushed against his very light touches.

Of course Ventus went to see the competition- along with Naminé who had been chauffeured by a very posh looking Dutch man, and a promise from Aqua, Terra and Eraqus to pop along at the end. The competition wasn’t _open_ for the public to view, but the pair went along anyway and just stayed in the regular restaurant area, nibbling on sides that Naminé paid for.

Vanitas and about fifteen or so others were ushered into the kitchens and given their own private station, and three hours to make a meal for some glamorous TV chef, which almost made Vanitas walk out in spite. It was the cutesy note on the top of his bag of ingredients written by Ventus that said ‘do your best! I believe in you!’ that kept him going. He smiled and folded it up into his breast pocket. He’d be able to do _anything_ if Ventus believed in him.

After three hours of increasingly nerve-wracking and loud banging exploits that somehow concluded with nine participants excluded from the competition- none of which were Vanitas which puzzled everyone involved, cooking time was over.

Vanitas was beyond nervous; initially he thought this competition was ridiculous and was only vying for the grand cash prize at the end, but the longer he spent sautéing his vegetables, the more care and effort he put into it the more he wanted it to do well- to be appreciated. It was a foreign and slightly alien concept to him, and he didn’t like it, yet it sat in his chest uncomfortably and wouldn’t go away.

When the bored looking waitress came back and motioned lazily for him to go in, he picked up his tray with shaky hands, almost glaring as the décor of the restaurant got even fancier with every step he took. As he entered the main room that was adorned with swirling golden curlicue and draping red curtains, his attention was stolen by a funny looking man seated in the centre of the room.

Vanitas staggered toward the strange duck-man, who boasted a golden nameplate that introduced him simply as Scrooge. He tried to keep the disdain for the pompous way the man was sitting and cleaning his cutlery, like Ventus had told him to. He clattered the tray down louder than he’d intended and the man looked up, one white eyebrow raised as his eyes flicked up and down Vanitas before settling on the food.

Vanitas’ heart was in his throat. He watched with bated breath as the man readied his cutlery and pursed his lips, “So, laddie. What’s this?”

Vanitas raised his eyebrows and said, “Clearly its shiitake mushroom and cheese fritters with escalivada.”

Scrooge blinked and moved to poke at a mushroom with his knife, and Vanitas felt the phantom prod on his chest.

“Clearly,” The man said sardonically and cut himself a piece, combining it with the onions and red peppers and swept it around the plate to get the full flavour of the sauce. He held it out to Vanitas, “It’s a vegetarian dish it seems. Well, go on, take a bite.”

He looked back at him oddly, _“What?_ Why me? How the fuck can you rate it if it’s in my goddamn mouth?” Vanitas cursed and folded his arms, “I didn’t make it for me- I wouldn’t eat that crap. To be honest I didn’t really make it for you either.”

White eyebrows flew to his hairline and the man pulled his fork back, scrutinising it, “You wouldn’t eat it? And if you didn’t make it for me then who for?”

“My friend. He’s a vegetarian, so I had him in mind when I was making it, I guess. I didn’t even know who you were, why the fuck would I want to make it for you?”

Scrooge said nothing, and finally put the food into his mouth, closing his eyes as his chewing began to slow. He worked his way around the dish, tasting everything but only having about a third- then wiped his still clean mouth with a napkin.

The two sat in a long, long silence before he looked up, “That was very enjoyable. You say you’ve never made it before?”

Vanitas had not said that, even if it was true, “No.”

“And did you taste test it?”

“Obviously.”

“And yet you dislike it?”

“I didn’t make it for me,” Vanitas repeated and unclenched his fists he hadn’t realised he’d tensed, “I made it for Ventus, because I wanted to make food for him.”

The realisation didn’t hit him until after he said it. He drearily looked up at the ceiling and eyed a crystal chandelier, “This is the first time I've cooked for another person. I kind of wanted it to be for him.”

“This person, they mean that much to you.”

“Yeah… _wait!”_ His eyes snapped back to Scrooge and he flushed.

“Is he here now? I hear there are people in the main restaurant waiting for participants.” The duck-man said and got up from his chair. The helpers around him protested, while Vanitas flustered himself silly, but Scrooge just held up a hand, “We’re done here anyway.”

He clicked for Vanitas to follow as they wandered through the hallway into the main part of the restaurant. Vanitas was hot on his heels, and his chest was about to burst.

This man, this senile old man wasn’t going to… _was he?_

He did. Once in the main room there was a tense hush as Scrooge entered, but he ignored everyone and asked for the person named Ventus, to which the blond boy came scrambling forward, as red as Vanitas was. Ventus questioned what was going on, as Naminé dove under the table and Vanitas was all but forced to present his food for his best friend to eat.

Scrooge looked at the two, a smile that couldn’t really be described as _happy_ on his face but had no real, worded equivalent. “Please eat that, Ventus,” He’d said, “Apparently you will be able to garner the taste far better than I could.”

Ventus blinked and looked at Vanitas with a million questions in his gaze, but the raven just looked away- unable to meet anyone’s eyes. Naminé had been fucking _lying_ to him earlier when she said he wouldn’t end up humiliated by the end of this. Ventus eagerly picked up the new cutlery and dug in, hesitation gone and just ate.

He stopped after four or so big mouthfuls and began to shake. Vanitas surged forward on pure instinct, holy shit holy shit _holy shit._ He’d fucking _poisoned_ Ventus or something because he never usually acted like that oh _fuck._ Vanitas’ worry devolved into despair as Ventus’ sky blue eyes started leaking tears. He swallowed the food and looked up at Vanitas who was now kneeling right by his side.

“V-Vanitas-”

“Are you okay? Are you dying? I didn’t poison it! I would _never-”_

“It’s the most incredible thing I’ve ever tasted,” He shook his head and sobbed, shaking hands brought up to cup over his mouth, unable to say much more.

“Wh- _what?”_

“It’s true that it’s a mighty fine meal laddie,” Scrooge cut in as Ventus tried to regain himself, unable to stop the tears from flowing, “If I’d been served that in this restaurant, I would have rated it very highly. But there’s something that makes it very special that I could not truly taste, it was mixed with a special ingredient I haven’t tasted in a long time.”

The room was silent.

Scrooge just chuckled, “It was made with love.”

Vanitas ended up winning the competition, for making someone cry with happiness as they ate food that was made with so much love and care. Also it was delicious, as Naminé had claimed once she crawled out from under the table to take a bite. He was given many things by the old food critic, like a bunch of cards and a wad of money, but Vanitas was more focused on the fact that he’d made Ventus _cry. Again._

He didn’t even know what he’d done this time, Ventus had said he’d… liked it, hadn’t he? Yet he’d cried- why had he cried? He was so confused and angry with himself.

The bundle of cash felt heavy in his hands, as Ventus hung off of Eraqus when he arrived- still blubbering to him Terra and Aqua about something he couldn’t hear from across the room.

Vanitas was also baffled concerning the feelings in his chest at what had happened. He’d cooked food for another, and it’d made him feel good inside- which was also weird because it he’d done something weak, and pathetic. God, was he becoming worthless for enjoying such absurd things?

He had to hide this from his father.

* * *

He managed to hide it from his father for exactly 13 hours- to which the bald old man found out in the next morning’s newspaper. Vanitas had been heating his breakfast milk in the microwave to try and kill at least _some_ of the bacteria that had been festering there over the last few days past its expiration date, when he had ambled into the room.

“Vanitas.” He’d barked and tossed the paper to the table, knocking over the cornflakes in the process, “What is this?”

Vanitas had frozen, suddenly the resounding beep of the microwave the room’s only sound. He turned around wordlessly, and pretended to examine the paper, as his brain had stopped functioning enough to understand how to read. He already knew what it would say anyway.

Fear swelled in his chest, but he didn’t deign to look up, “A… mistake, father.”

“A mistake?” He boomed, “You went to the fanciest restaurant in town and just cooked for a celebrity, as a mistake? On accident?”

“I… I… yes father. I wanted to win money to help fund cleaning supplies for the house.”

Xehanort just sighed and leaned back against the fridge. Vanitas slowly rose his head to look at his father, whose golden eyes that he shared with his son in a petulant stare.

“You did, did you? For me? For this house?”

“Yes… why else would I? It’s like you said… cooking for other people is a weak and pathetic thing to do.”

Xehanort raised an eyebrow, “And yet you did it anyway? My son willingly went and did something so… disgusting?”

Vanitas winced hard, and Xehanort looked almost triumphant, “I… I can’t get money many other ways.”

“Don’t stammer boy, it’s pathetic,” He commanded, “Now, go and get me the money you won.”

Vanitas didn’t ask him to repeat himself, even if he so desperately wished he’d heard wrong. He debated not giving all of it to his father, but he didn’t doubt he knew the total sum already. As he placed it in his father’s hand, the man smiled an eerie grin, “You miss school today and you’ll regret it. I’ll have your reward waiting for you when you get back.”

Vanitas didn’t go anywhere with Ventus after school that day. He barely spoke a word in school, and even when Ventus asked him a hundred times what was wrong, he just replied with a curt non-committal answer.

He trudged home alone, having gone to great efforts to dodge the worrisome blond who had waited like a watchdog by the school gate for him. The panic began to sing in his veins when his small bungalow came into view, and he wiped his bloody hands on a tissue, since he’d been clenching his fists so hard his nails had punctured his palms.

Once he weaselled his way into the back garden and through the sliding door (the front door being broken long ago and was now more a glorified letterbox than anything) he set his things in the kitchen and made his way into the lounge.

Xehanort was lying there on the ripped recliner chair, smiling blissfully. He looked over at Vanitas, whose whole body had dropped in temperature so fast he wasn’t even cold, just numb.

“Vanitas, my boy,” Xehanort slurred and motioned to a rather expensive bottle of what appeared to be vodka by his side, “Look, it’s your present. You don’t get that much… because it’s mine.”

The old man tried to pour some out for his son, who had to sink to his side and help him out by pouring it into a shot glass for him. Xehanort motioned for him to drink it, and he swallowed the whole thing, forcing himself not to retch at the foul taste.

“Now you’re finally here- the fun can begin,” He leaned over to his other side and produced some more bottles to add to the great variety that was littering the room. It made Vanitas’ head spin. He wanted to throw up so bad- but he hadn’t eaten anything yet that day and he was sure he’d just dry heave saliva.

As per usual, Vanitas assisted Xehanort with preparing everything since the man was getting on in his years now, having a case of arthritis in his left knee, and carpal tunnel in his left hand. He’d dropped many glasses over the years that Vanitas had to clear up before the day Eraqus happened to be round and dragged him to the hospital.

“You know,” He’d started, and Vanitas looked up, “I have to wonder where I went wrong, for you to go and do something like that. So I re-read that article about you. It said you made somebody cry with your… food.”

Vanitas didn’t say anything.

“That must’ve been something, to make someone cry. Did it feel good? To know you’ve reduced someone to the lowest form of scum?”

Vanitas flared with an unappeasable rage and had to squeeze his eyes shut so stop himself from trying to eviscerate Xehanort with his eyes. Nobody speaks like that about Ventus. _Nobody._

Most of all though he just felt an all-encompassing sadness. That his hard work, which he put his heart and soul and care and _love_ into had culminated in an array of bottles embellishing his lounge floor.

Xehanort just laughed as Vanitas trembled, fighting every urge to keep it in, “Wow boy. You’re more worthless than I’d thought. Now,” He pointed to a red scratch mark on his wrist, “Do it here.”

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> thank you so much for finishing that, even if it took you a while. it appears i am once again my own worst enemy as my most damning characteristic in my uni work has wormed it's ugly head into my work; my blasted waffling. 
> 
> genuinely though, tell me if you think its too long and i'll do something about it. failing that we can just all form a prayer circle for Vanitas because Xehanort can go fuck himself


End file.
